


The New Sith Order

by Chi-chi-chimaera (gestalt1)



Series: Star Wars Fic Collection [5]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Original Trilogy, Star Wars: Jedi: Fallen Order (Video Game), Star Wars: Rebels
Genre: Alternate Universe, But not unrelentingly dark, Child Abuse, Dark Luke, Dark fic, Darth Maul appearing from Chapter 35 onwards, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Gen, Imperial Inquisitors, Physical Abuse, Rebels characters appearing from Chapter 18 onwards, Sith Alchemy (Star Wars), Sith Luke Skywalker, The Dark Side of the Force, The power of friendship, there are more emotions than anger
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-13
Updated: 2021-03-01
Packaged: 2021-03-03 03:53:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 41
Words: 232,920
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24168403
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gestalt1/pseuds/Chi-chi-chimaera
Summary: Ten year old Luke Skywalker has no chance of fighting back when two Imperial Inquisitors stumble across him on an accidental visit to Tatooine. His family dead and nameless as any other stolen child, the only way to survive is to excel in his Dark Side training and become a fully fledged Inquisitor. There is no way to fully hide his power and potential however, and soon Darth Vader begins to take notice...
Relationships: Leia Organa & Luke Skywalker, Luke Skywalker & Darth Vader, Luke Skywalker & Various Inquisitors
Series: Star Wars Fic Collection [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1031933
Comments: 749
Kudos: 1110





	1. The Theft

**Author's Note:**

> This AU is basically about making everybody Sith; Cal Kestis, Luke, Ezra, Kanan, Ahsoka and so on. Palpatine has already been ignoring the Rule of Two - time for him to face the consequences of that!
> 
> Constructive criticism and meta chat always welcomed.

**9 BBY - In Hyperspace, Arkanis Sector, Outer Rim**

“This piece of junk is falling apart,” Tenth Sister said, her lip curling in disgust behind her mask. At the controls, Fifth Brother just grunted, his gaze fixed on the blurr of hyperspace in front of them. He made no secret of his disinterest, broadcasting it into the Force. 

“Look at this,” Tenth Sister added, prodding at the console buttons irritably to illustrate her point. “Look at all these things that  _ don’t work _ . Why do  _ we _ have to fly around in an ancient rustbucket while some of the other teams get access to the latest ships from Sienar? Just because they pretend to be hunting Jedi, while we’re assigned to Harvester? We’re doing work that’s just as important. Work that needs to be done.” Maybe he could tell that she was trying to convince herself of that fact just as much as she was him. He continued to ignore her, although a dark point of awareness fixed on her was enough to prove he  _ was _ still listening. 

“The other teams never find any Jedi anyway,” Tenth said, feeding the Dark with her scorn. It curled around her like a warm and heavy blanket, whispering anger in ‘ _ yes, yes you’re right, naturally you’re right’ _ . “When was the last time that they did? Four, five years ago?”

“You could ask Third Brother himself,” Fifth said. Good. He was actually engaging. 

“I’m not saying it wasn’t impressive, what Second Sister did to bring him into the fold. I’m just saying that apart from what happened with him, there’s hardly been any encounters with real, actual Jedi. Just Force-sensitive cultists and followers of weird sects. Whereas  _ we _ actually get the job done, all the time, every time.”

“Then complain to the Grand Inquisitor.”

Tenth Sister gave a low growl and turned back to the console. Oh yes, that was something she should do. Just walk up to the Grand Inquisitor and say ‘hey, how come we always get the short end of the stick’? And then she’d be trembling under Force Lightning until she learned her place again. 

“Hey… is that light supposed to be flashing like that?” she asked, suddenly noticing something odd in front of her. 

Fifth looked over and swore under his breath. “No. No it isn’t. That’s a hyperdrive malfunction warning.”

Tenth Sister went stiff. “I’m  _ sorry _ ,” she said, in a sickly sweet voice. “I thought you just said the hyperdrive is malfunctioning and we’re all going to die, but I’m sure I must have been mistaken because it’s not like  _ flying this heap of junk is an issue _ !”

Fifth Brother turned his head and she could  _ feel _ his glare through his visor. His anger flicked out towards her like a lash, a sudden searing pain over the surface of her mind, biting at her shields. “We are far from dead,” he snarled. He flipped a few switches on the console, checked something on the navicomputer, and slowly pulled back on the hyperdrive control. The blur of stars out the viewscreen smeared back into single pinpricks as the deep black of space folded around them once again. 

Their ship shuddered as though it was vibrating against reality itself, but despite her fear it stopped that after a few very uncomfortable moments. 

“There,” Fifth said. “Not dead.”

Tenth let out the breath she’d been holding. “Where are we then, and how far is it from Arkanis?”

Fifth Brother leant over the navicomputer again. “Shab-end of nowhere,” he said. “Nearest planet is some Hutt dustball called Tatooine, although it’s days away by sublights. We have an Imperial presence there apparently, even though it’s a small one. We should be able to either find parts to repair the ship, or hitch a ride onwards to Arkanis.”

“I don’t want to hitch a ride with our cargo in tow,” she said. “Parts would be better, and a mechanic even better than that.  _ I _ certainly don’t know how to fix a hyperdrive.”

“You barely even know how to fly a ship,” Fifth said, with another scornful lash of the Dark. Tenth ducked her head in a show of submission, careful not to let any sense of blame leak out into the Force. She had pushed it about as far as she could now, and Fifth would not take kindly to her continuing to harp on about how none of this would have happened if they’d just had a newer shuttle. 

Fifth Brother set a course for Tatooine, the system’s twin stars visible as small glowing balls in the far distance. “I’ll call the Academy,” he said. “Let them know we’ll be late. Go check on the cargo.”

Tenth Sister nodded, and slipped out of her seat, heading towards the hold. Bad enough they had to be cooped up with a couple of mewling younglings in the first place, even worse now that their trip had been extended by days. At least they had plenty of supplies, so it wasn’t like they would need to eat each other to survive. A thin sliver of amusement snuck through her at the thought, cruelty to feed the Dark. It wasn’t the sort of thing that happened these days, but she had always been fascinated by stories from the earlier ages of space travel, before the hyperlanes were properly fixed and mapped, when ships were less reliable and their communications range was much smaller. 

The sorts of horrors caused by marooned and desperate starfarers sent a delicious shiver down her spine. 

Inside the cargo hold, the two younglings looked up at her through the bars of their cage. Their fear whipped the Dark Side up around them, thick enough to taste. They shivered and wriggled backwards to get away from her. They’d soon learn there was no point in trying to run. There was no escape from the Inquisitorius. 

One of the brats was a little twi’lek girl, snatched up from the slave markets on Nar Kaaga - not that Inquisitors usually had to  _ pay _ to take slaves, except in Hutt space - the other a Bothan boy taken from Bothawui itself. The twi’lek was smart enough and old enough to know all of the possible destinations for someone like her, and her fear was all the sweeter for it. She would welcome the mercy of the Inquisitorius in comparison. The Bothan was more naive, but he still knew she wore an Imperial cog on her shoulder. He bared sharp little fangs in her direction. 

“This trip is going to take a little longer than planned,” she told them, making sure that her tone was just sweet enough to be sinister, “but we’ll be at our destination soon enough.” She grabbed a canister of water from a crate and slid it into the cage. “Don’t worry. We plan to take very good care of you.”

That should be enough to stir them up for a bit. She went back to the main cabin and ratcheted her chair back as far as it would go. She could at least try to meditate until something interesting happened. 

\----

Something was… off… on Tatooine. Tenth Sister tried to cast her senses out into the Force again and found herself blinking back a headache. She thought she had come closer to finding whatever it was that time though. A bright flash of light, like looking into the sun for too long. Suns plural, on this planet. 

“How long is this going to take?” Fifth Brother demanded, glaring down at the mechanic buried half-way into their hyperdrive. 

“At least another hour sir,” came the reply, in the bored tone of someone used to dealing with terrible customers. Fifth suppressed a snarl of impatience, and Tenth could relate. They had waited long enough already. Although perhaps there was something useful they could do with their time. 

“Fifth Brother,” she said, with a nod of her head to indicate they should step away to talk. Fifth followed her out into the hanger where the heat took an abrupt jump even despite the shade of the high walls around them. Sweat trickled inside Tenth’s uniform, and her mouth was immediately dry. 

“What?” he demanded.

“Have you sensed the same disturbance that I have?”

He considered for only a moment. “Yes. You want to investigate?”

She nodded. “It’s hard for me to pin down exactly where it is or what might be causing it, but I know it’s somewhere in this general area. Whatever it is, it’s strong in the Force.”

“Yes…” He trailed off, his Force presence becoming heavier and more focused as he concentrated. Tenth let him work - it pained her to admit it, and she never would out loud, but he was more skilled than her. That was why he was Fifth, and she was only Tenth. “That way,” he said after a minute or two, pointing. “Some distance. We’ll need to hire speeder bikes.”

“That shouldn’t be hard to do in a place like this.”

“Get to work then,” he said, tossing her some of their credit chips. “Come back when you have them. I’m going to meditate.”

\----

They had tracked the thing in the Force all the way out into the middle of nowhere, past some little meaningless village named Anchorhead, and now they brought the speeder bikes to a halt on top of a low rise in the desert. Barren flat terrain stretched around them for miles, breaking into hills in the far distance. Fifth Brother scanned the horizon. It - whatever it was - was far stronger out here. Painful to sense directly, it still had that piercing  _ brightness _ to it. It made her skin feel itchy and uncomfortable, as though it didn’t sit right over her bones. She shivered, and tried to pretend it was because dusk was coming on and the temperature was dropping. 

Fifth Brother pointed. “There. Magnify that area in your helm’s cam.”

She obeyed. Small mechanical objects stuck up from the earth like little towers, surrounding an expansive area around a small stone building. They’d seen a few of these sorts of buildings on their way. Some people evidently enjoyed their privacy, or whatever else it was they did out here. Crime maybe? This wasn’t in Hutt space, but it was basically a Hutt planet all the same. 

“I don’t see any signs of potential danger,” she said, after giving the area a thorough visual inspection. 

“Then we proceed. Be ready for the unexpected though.” 

She nodded, and adjusted her seat on the bike. They zipped down off the rise, and over the flat terrain at speed, throttling back the engines on the approach to lessen the noise. No-one came out to meet them, but she doubted that was because the place was abandoned, or because they weren’t being watched. 

Fifth Brother dismounted first and led the way, unhooking his lightsaber from his belt as he did so. This was definitely the place. Tenth Sister tried to sweep the building with the Force to see if anyone was inside, but had to shy away from the intense  _ presence _ that lurked somewhere within. A nasty thought occurred to her. 

“Fifth Brother. Could this be a Jedi?”

“If it is, our reward will be all the greater for dealing with them,” he said. Tenth tried to settle herself. They had the Dark Side didn’t they? That gave them greater power than any weak and corrupt Jedi. 

As Fifth took another step forwards, a blaster fired and buried a bolt at his feet. He froze. Neither of them had felt it coming - the damn  _ brightness _ was everywhere, masking what might lie beneath it. 

“Don’t come any closer,” a man called out. Tracking the direction of the shot, Tenth saw that the muzzle of a rifle was sticking out of one of the small slot windows on the side of the building. “What’s your business out here?”

“Firing on an Imperial agent is a criminal act,” Fifth Brother shouted back. “It would be unwise to do so again.”

A pause. “You don’t look like any kind of Imperial agents I’ve ever seen before.”

Tenth Sister rolled her eyes. Fifth Brother said, “I don’t doubt it on this backwater planet. Have you heard of the Inquisitorius?”

Was the next pause just a little too long? Normally the Force would give her the answers to such things, allow at least a little insight into other people’s motivations. Not here. 

“Can’t say that I have,” the man said. “What’s your business here? Like you said, we’re a backwater.”

“Our business is searching this place for contraband,” Fifth said, which was not technically a lie. Jedi were contraband. So was anything which had to do with them. 

“Contraband? We’re moisture farmers!”

“Irrelevant. We  _ will _ be searching your settlement. If you attempt to resist us, you will pay for it.”

There was a moment of consideration, then the blaster rifle slid slowly back through the window. “You won’t find anything here,” the man said. “So come on in and see that for yourself.”

Tenth Sister’s eyes narrowed. The easy acquiescence was unexpected. She was prepared to fight their way in, which might have been enough in itself to bait the possible Jedi out. Either this man didn’t know what he was sheltering, or he was overly confident in his ability to hide it. 

The door slid open as they came closer. A rough-faced, unshaven human male glared out at them, still holding his rifle across his chest. His clothing was plain and worn, and he looked utterly unremarkable. 

“We don’t want any bother with the Empire,” he said. “And we have nothing to hide.”

“We’ll be the judge of that,” Fifth Brother said, and pushed past him. 

Inside a staircase led downwards, but the interior was well-lit. The uncomfortable feeling in the Force was all around them, and if there  _ had _ been an ambush waiting for them Tenth knew she wouldn’t sense it coming. It made her wary. She kept her hand on the hilt of her lightsaber as they followed the man downstairs, taking comfort in the soft wail of its crystal. 

“What’s your name, moisture farmer?” Fifth Brother demanded. 

The man snorted. “You came out here looking for contraband and you don’t even know whose home you’re searching? You sure you’re in the right place?”

Tenth felt Fifth’s anger bubbling up at the dismissive, disrespectful tone - although it was strangely attenuated, like a shout underwater. 

The man shrugged. “It’s Owen Lars. My wife Beru is downstairs with our kid, Luke.”

A child. Tenth felt a sudden bite of anticipation. How good was the locals’ compliance with Imperial rules and regulations on a planet like this? Terrible, she was sure. Who bothered testing the midichlorian counts of peasants and slaves? Could that really be the source of something they had felt from a hundred miles away without even trying? 

It appeared that most of the home was underground, which made sense given the heat of the desert above. As Lars had said, a middle-aged woman and a young boy were waiting in their dining room, sitting at the table staring at the staircase with wary eyes. She didn’t miss the tight grip the woman had on her son’s hand. 

“These two Imperial agents are here to check our place for contraband,” Lars said, going over to join them. “I guess we’ll just sit here and wait for them to finish.”

Fifth Brother’s satisfaction unfolded like the bloom of a thermal detonator. “No need. We’ve just found what we came looking for.”

The fear in the parents’ faces was immediate and understanding. Some part of them must have already known, or suspected. Lars moved, pulling his rifle up to fire, but Fifth Brother was laughably faster. His lightsaber cut the rifle barrel in two before moving on to do the same to its wielder. The child screamed. The woman roared with fury and lunged for a kitchen knife on the counter behind her. 

It was pitiful really, how unprepared they were to defend their son. 

\----

Miles away in the Jundland Wastes, blue eyes snapped open as Obi-wan felt a surge of foreign emotion slap him awake with its terror and anguish. Pain tightened around his chest and he gasped for air as his lungs tried to expand against the pressure. His heart was surely tearing itself apart. 

The sensation eased as he came fully to consciousness, and he managed to sit up, bringing a hand up to feel his ribs almost expecting it to come away covered in blood. What…? 

Luke. The fear hit him at the same time as the certainty. Something had happened to Luke. 

Obi-wan pushed himself to his feet, pulling on his robes as quickly as possible and grabbing his lightsaber, hooking it onto his belt. Thank the Force he kept a speeder bike handy, although he avoided using it unless he had to make the long trip into town for supplies. From the ripples of sorrow and pain that still shook the Force around him, Luke wasn’t dead. There was still time. 

What was this? There had been no warning of danger. No premonitions, not even the vaguest sense that he should be on the alert. 

He shot along the bottom of the canyon and out of the mountains onto open sands with his mind conjuring ever worse scenarios. He couldn’t ignore what he most dreaded. Could Vader have discovered this most important secret? Had he come for his son? 

But no, it couldn’t be. Obi-wan would have been able to feel him. Anakin or Vader, his apprentice had never been subtle. 

Obi-wan urged the bike faster, and hoped he wasn’t too late.

\----

Tenth had to drag the struggling kid out of the house tucked under her arm like a rabid tooka. He had guts, she’d give him that. He’d only been caught up in the shock of his parents’ deaths for a couple of seconds before he had also dived for the knife and come at them screaming insults in Huttese that she suspected his dead kin would not have been impressed to hear. When Fifth Brother grabbed him and prised it out of his hands, he’d tried to kick him in the groin and bite Fifth’s wrist. His teeth hadn’t managed to get through the thick synthleather, and Fifth had flung him clear across the room on instinct, but the little bastard hadn’t taken the hint. 

Stupid youngling couldn’t be more than ten or eleven, maybe younger. 

Fifth Brother had smacked him around some which had taken a bit of the fight out of him, but he was still doing his best to escape even now. Tenth kept a good grip and wished she’d brought some cuffs with her. Some rope, at least. She readjusted her grip and headed towards her bike, but Fifth Brother put out a hand to stop her. 

“Someone’s coming,” he said, pointing. Tenth squinted, and saw what he meant. A small black dot was moving over the sand towards them, dark enough against the pale background to be visible even past suns-set. Given the whole lot of kriff-all out here, it was a fair bet that it was coming here. 

“Do we care?” she asked. “We have what we were looking for.”

“What a coincidence, that they’d come here just after we killed this youngling’s parents.” Fifth Brother’s voice was rich and tense with anticipation. “Almost as though they  _ sensed _ what happened here.”

“Another Force-sensitive.” 

“Indeed.” Fifth Brother lit his saber and twirled it a few times. “I’ll take care of them. Get the youngling out of here - it’s a liability in a fight.” 

Tenth Sister snarled. “You just want all the glory to yourself,” she said. 

Fifth Brother turned fast as a striking spitsnake, and the point of his lightsaber glowed deadly inches from her throat. “I gave you an order,” he said. 

She kept herself very still. She couldn’t take him, not like this. Not with a boy to keep captive and an enemy on the way, even if her skills  _ were _ good enough. And she was pretty sure they weren't. Fifth grunted, sensing her submission, and took the blade away.

Tenth Sister dumped the youngling over the front of her speeder bike and held him there while she kicked the thing into motion. The brat was still wriggling, like he thought he would enjoy the consequences of falling off a vehicle going fast enough to break every bony in his tiny body. Not that she planned to go far. She stopped the bike on top of the same rise as earlier and turned back to the moisture farm. If she couldn’t take part in the fight, at least she could watch it. 

The dot resolved itself into another speeder-bike, which showed no signs of slowing down as it darted right towards Fifth Brother. Foolish. As though he wouldn’t just dodge and catch the bike a deadly blow on the way past. Except that as it neared, the figure sitting on the bike vaulted off of it, turning an elegant somersault in the air and igniting a brilliant blue lightsaber as it did so. 

_ Jedi _ , Tenth Sister realised, a shudder of mingled fear and delight running through her. A real Jedi. If Fifth Brother managed to kill it he would strike a true blow for the Empire - and for his own glory. If he failed…  _ she  _ wouldn’t be able to fight a Jedi who could win a fight against Fifth. 

In the distance, lightsabers crashed together before the combatants split apart, circling each other. Tenth Sister dialed the lens of her helmet in and out until she could see the whole scene without losing track of either of them. The Jedi held his saber in a high guard, waiting for Fifth Brother to come to him. Typical. Jedi lacked the aggression and the drive to win that made the members of the Inquisitorius inherently superior. 

Fifth Brother leapt forwards, his lightsaber a whirl of heavy repeating strokes that wove a net of red light in the air. It should have worked to overwhelm the enemy’s defence, particularly given the occasional sharp rotations of his twin blades that  _ ought _ to have taken the Jedi entirely off guard. Instead every movement was met in kind by the Jedi. It seemed impossible to get through his defence. Dim memories of the Temple started to stir in the back of her mind. She’d been only a youngling, only been taught the very basics of lightsaber combat by  _ them _ but… Soresu? 

Somehow that term for the form felt right. 

Tenth Sister felt the tension winding ever tighter inside of her as the duel continued. She could just make out that both of them were talking, but she had no idea whether it was more than simple taunts. What was the Jedi’s interest in this place? He must have known about the strength of the child, but if he had already started to train the boy then the kid would have used the Force trying to fight them off and he hadn’t. So if the Jedi didn’t want the boy as his apprentice, was he merely…  _ friends _ with the boy’s parents? 

That problem aside, the fight in the distance wasn’t going well. Fifth Brother twisted and tried to push the Jedi back, tried to batter down his strength, envelop him in the roaring cloak of the Dark Side that Tenth could feel from over here, and none of it was doing any good. 

The blue lightsaber flickered. Fifth Brother stopped moving, and then with a slow horror Tenth Sister watched him collapse in the sand as his head rolled free of his shoulders. She went very still on her speeder bike. Surely the Jedi would go and search inside - he couldn’t know that she was here unless Fifth had foolishly told him… 

His head turned in her direction. His eyes met hers despite the distance between them. 

No. She wasn’t about to throw her life away for an impossible promise of glory. Tenth Sister slammed the speeder bike back into gear and took off. She had a head start and the Jedi would have to find where he’d let his own speeder go careening off to. She could make it back to base with the captured youngling and given how long they’d been gone the mechanic had  _ better _ have finished her work on the hyperdrive. 

As she sped over the flat, featureless terrain, her hand and the Force still pinning the child down, Tenth Sister searched her memories trying to place the vague sense of familiarity she’d experienced looking at the Jedi’s face. She sensed that she ought to know him, even though there had been hundreds of Jedi Knights and Masters coming and going back before the fall of the Temple. He’d never taught one of her classes, she was sure of that, so where…?

It didn’t matter. She could search through the Inquisitorius’ records after she escaped so that she would at least have a name to give to the Grand Inquisitor - or perhaps it would be better to go straight to Lord Vader himself. If there was a Jedi the Inquisitorius couldn’t deal with, he would want to know about it and take them on himself. The chances of being punished for her failure would be the same either way, and if they decided she had done badly enough to earn her death, choking seemed a less painful way to go than Force lightning. 

\----

The Jedi didn’t manage to catch up with her before she reached the Imperial base. Skidding to a halt inside the prefabbed walls to the startled surprise of a unit of stormtroopers, she dragged the youngling off the bike and strode towards her ship, pulling the boy behind her despite his struggles to get away. She knew the moment he noticed where they were because he stopped fighting. 

_ That’s right _ , she thought.  _ Nowhere to run here. _

“Is the hyperdrive fixed?” she shouted as she approached the shuttle’s open ramp. The mechanic flinched at the sound of her voice and dropped the rag she was using to clean off her hands. 

“Y-yes my lady,” she stammered. “All fit to go. Should get you back to Arkanis without a problem.”

Tenth Sister gave her a curt nod and strode up the ramp. Inside she unlocked the cargo cage and pushed the youngling inside with the others. She didn’t want to deal with the brat right now, particular not since she’d just remembered the fact that she was going to have to fly this death-trap out of here. 

She was  _ not _ a good pilot. She could probably get it off the ground at least, and she knew how the hyperdrive controls worked, but landing it would be another matter. 

She wasn’t dead. That was what mattered. 

She slid into the pilot’s seat and put her hands gingerly on the controls. After a few moments of studious concentration, she was  _ fairly _ sure how this worked. She started up the repulsors and brought the shuttle up into the air in a movement much jerkier than she wanted. After that she focused on pointing the ship’s nose at the stars until the atmosphere of the desert planet fell away beneath her. 

In the comfort of space, Tenth Sister sank back in her seat able to relax again. She pulled her helmet off with a deep, shuddering breath and set it in her lap. After a few moments she pulled herself together enough to unspool a cable from the console and hook her helmet up to the ship’s systems so she could pull the footage from its camera. Time to find out who this Jedi was and why he felt so familiar. 

The magnified view of the end of the fight when the Jedi had turned to face her directly gave her an excellent image for the facial recognition program. It started skimming through files, looking for male human Jedi whose death hadn’t yet been confirmed. It didn’t take long for the program to throw up a result. 

General Obi-wan Kenobi. 

Tenth Sister’s stomach churned with sudden sharp nausea. She swallowed convulsively, trying not to throw up. General Kenobi. One of the great heroes of the Clone Wars. Of  _ course _ she’d known him, even as a youngling. Everyone told stories about him all the time. The only Jedi to have killed a Sith and survived - no mere Dark Side user, but a true Sith Lord.

No wonder Fifth Brother had lost. 

Darth Vader it was then. It was no secret that he had always believed General Kenobi was still out there, or that he wanted to kill the man personally. He might be pleased enough to hear this that he wouldn’t even think to punish her. She had the comm codes to reach him, as all Inquisitors did. Nobody would be foolish enough to misuse the privilege. 

Her throat tight with fear and anticipation, Tenth Sister made the call. 

\----

Darth Vader was so eager to see to Kenobi’s death that he did not even think to ask what business Fifth Brother and Tenth Sister might have had on Tatooine.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Obi-wan tries to plan a rescue mission, while Luke does what he does best - make new friends.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank everyone for your kind comments! Not sure yet exactly what the update schedule for this will be like.

**9 BBY - Tatooine, Arkanis Sector, Outer Rim**

Obi-wan powered off his speeder bike a klik and a half away from the Imperial outpost. A shuttle was already rising up from it and heading in the direction of open space with the desperate, broken Force presence of Luke on board. Fear sat as a cold, heavy lump in his throat. He was too late. He had failed. All these years keeping watch, doing his best to give Luke a good,  _ safe _ life, waiting for the right moment to tell him the truth of his destiny… all of it might very well be for nothing. 

That man he’d killed outside the Lars homestead hadn’t been a Sith, but his use of the Dark Side and his red lightsaber had been as obvious as the Imperial cog on the shoulder of the armour he wore. Obi-wan didn’t know exactly what he was. Tatooine was a planet that didn’t concern itself much with the wider galaxy, and it had never been safe to reach out from his small hut in the Jundland wastes to go searching for news. Or so he had told himself. Perhaps it had been fear rather than caution. Fear of what the thing that now lived in Anakin’s skin might be doing. Fear that he would encounter only pain out there, and nothing more. 

It was now clear that listening to that fear had been a mistake, and one that had cost him dearly. 

Obi-wan shook himself free of his panicked thoughts. Adrenaline was pumping through him, bringing old memories with it. As he turned his head he almost expected to see white armour on either side of him, men waiting to jump to his command. What had he been doing with himself? He’d felt so  _ tired _ . As worn as rock beneath desert winds. Now something of the man he used to be had returned. 

All was not yet lost. Luke still lived. The Dark Side hadn’t touched him yet. 

He could still get him back. 

He would need to find transport off-world, and then he would need to investigate who these Imperial agents were and where they might have taken Luke. He had to move fast. He didn’t know where these Dark Side users stood in the Imperial hierarchy, but in the end every Imp reported to the Emperor. He would certainly be interested to know about Obi-wan’s survival. Tatooine was no longer safe for him. If he  _ did _ manage to track Luke down, they couldn’t return here. 

There were a few odds and ends he needed to collect from his home, but after that Obi-wan made for Mos Eisley, where enough credits could induce anyone to stop asking questions. 

\----

Luke curled up on the ship’s cold floor and sobbed, unable to control the flood of tears. The red light of those horrible weapons kept flashing across his vision as he saw Uncle Owen and Aunt Beru die over and over again. The awful memory was fresh and bright and seemed like it couldn’t possibly be real, like none of this could be real, but he couldn’t wake up. 

He wanted to wake up. He wanted to go  _ home. _

He hurt all over. Moving made it worse, and he knew he was in a cage now, so what was the point? He would just lie here until something else happened to him and… and maybe he would try to fight that too but… he didn’t think it would work. 

“Hey.” Someone nudged his shoulder. Luke flinched backwards and curled up into an even tighter ball. He heard a thump as the person moved away from him just as fast and fell. A high-pitched voice squeaked.

“Leave him alone,” a different voice said. “You’re making it worse.”

They hadn’t. Nothing could make it worse. 

Those didn’t sound like adults though. Nothing like the angry man and woman who had… had killed… Luke tried to stop thinking about it. He was so tired of crying now. How was there this much water in him? He shouldn’t be wasting it like this. Nobody could afford to cry on Tatooine, and he was old enough to know better. 

He couldn’t just stop himself from feeling like this though. At least no one was hurting him right now and maybe… maybe that meant it was safe to at least look around. 

Luke uncurled, and managed to sit up wincing. He had to scrub the tears out of his eyes with the corner of his sleeve before he could see anything except smeared colours. There was a twi'lek girl about his age sitting against the back wall of the cage, and an even younger bothan boy crouched up just out of arm’s reach watching him.

“Hi,” the bothan said. 

Luke couldn’t say anything right away. His throat felt raw and hot. He swallowed a few times, and then managed to croak out, “Hi,” back. 

“Are you okay?” the boy asked. 

Luke shook his head, unable to meet that nervous but friendly gaze. 

“Of course he’s not okay,” the twi’lek said. “He’s here in a cage with us. None of us are okay.”

“Where… where do you come from?” Luke asked. Is that what the terrible strangers did? Just go around the galaxy kidnapping kids and killing their parents? 

“They bought me in a market,” the twi’lek said, shrugging. “I don’t know what planet I was on.”

“You were a slave?” Luke asked, shocked. He knew what slavery was - Owen and Beru had explained it to him, just like how they’d explained that his grandmother had been one, and so had his father before winning his freedom and leaving Tatooine for good. He knew he was the first freeborn Skywalker, the same as he knew that Skywalker was a slave-name. 

“I’m  _ still  _ a slave,” she said. “Aren’t you? Who else keeps children in a cage on their ship except slavers?”

She… she had a point. Luke’s heart sank as he thought about it. “They’re… they’re Empire though,” he said. “My uncle told me the only good thing the Empire ever did was do something about slavery - even if they only care about humans.”

The twi’lek scoffed. “I’ve seen  _ loads _ of human slaves in the markets,” she said. “So obviously your uncle doesn't know what he’s talking about.”

Luke turned his head away, feeling his throat close up and tears prickling again at the corners of his eyes. Uncle Owen… 

There was a moment of silence, and then the girl said, “Sorry.”

“...’s okay,” he managed. 

“I wasn’t a slave,” the other boy said. “At least, not before this. I was just… at home.” He shivered. “It got so cold all of a sudden. Then  _ they _ came. I don’t know where my parents were, but… but they’ll be looking for me.” 

Luke wasn’t so sure about that, but he didn’t say anything. 

“So… what happened to you?” the bothan asked him. “Unless… you don’t have to talk about it!”

Luke didn’t think he could. “What are your names?” he asked instead. 

“Zar,” the bothan said. “Zar Krav’ur.”

“I don’t have a  _ real _ name,” the twi’lek said. “You can call me Banee though.”

“I’m Luke,” Luke said, suddenly not wanting to share his last name. It felt wrong somehow, to have been a free Skywalker and now a slave just like the rest of his family. “So, where are they taking us?” 

Both kids shook their heads. “No idea,” Zar said. “They wouldn’t say.”

“The woman brought you on board,” Banee said. “The man wasn’t with her. Maybe that’s important? What planet were we on just now?”

“Tatooine,” Luke said. “But there’s nothing there anyone would want.”

Banee looked thoughtful. “I’ve heard people talk about Tatooine. One of the Hutts lives there. Jabba?”

Luke nodded, not bothering to try and hide how disgusted that name made him feel. 

“Maybe he stuck around to go talk to Jabba?” Banee suggested. “A slaver would do that.”

“That makes sense, I guess.” Maybe Jabba charged a fee for taking slaves off his planet. That sounded like the slimy slug. 

“Why do they want kids anyway?” Zar said, hugging his knees to his chest with a scowl. “Not like we can work hard, or have any special skills.”

Something about that… Luke tried to think back without flinching, without getting caught up in the part where everything had turned into a nightmare. Why had Imperial Agents come all the way out past Anchorhead? There were lots of slaves on Tatooine, and some of those had to be kids. Did they want a human specifically? Even if so, why him? They’d said… ‘we’ve found what we were looking for’. 

Banee shivered. “Some places want kids specifically,” she said, in a very small voice. “Bad places. Really bad.”

“Bad how?” Zar asked. 

She shrugged. “I don’t know exactly. I only know we don’t want to be going somewhere like that.”

Fear was starting to seep in past the heartbreak inside him. Luke found himself shivering too, although it was  _ cold _ in this ship. Not as cold as a Tatooine midnight, but he wouldn’t have been outside at night without more clothes than this. Would their destination be cold too? He’d only seen other planets on the holo and it was hard to imagine what going to one would be like. 

Luke had always wanted to leave Tatooine some day. He just had never expected it would be like this. 

The ship started to tremble slightly around them. 

“That was quick,” Banee said. 

“We’re landing again?” Luke asked. 

She nodded. “It feels like that going into atmosphere,” she said. “This isn’t the first time I’ve been sold to a new owner.”

Luke took a deep breath in and did his best not to panic. He had no idea what was coming, but there was nothing he could do to stop it. 

\----

**9 BBY - In hyperspace, the Outer Rim**

“So old man, you got any actual destination in mind?”

Obi-wan leaned back against the comfortable synth-leather seats in the passenger area and gave the question proper consideration. “Not precisely,” he replied. “I need to make some holocalls first, if you don’t mind me using your system.”

The young smuggler rolled his eyes. “Sure, I’ll add it to your tab. You get that if you can’t pay for all this we’ll be taking it out of your hide?”

“I don’t doubt it,” Obi-wan said. He hoped it wouldn’t come to that. Captain Solo and his wookie friend might be smugglers for Jabba but he had asked a few questions about them in the cantina before accepting their terms of passage. They carried spice, not slaves. That might simply be because the rewards were greater, as were the risks if they were stopped by the Empire, but their motives felt benevolent in the Force. 

That didn’t mean they  _ wouldn’t  _ try and sell him if he failed to pay his passage, which wasn’t even considering what might happen if Solo found out about the bounty on him, but Obi-wan would prefer not to kill the pair if he could avoid it. 

“I’ll be up front,” Captain Solo said, gesturing towards the cockpit. “We’re heading along the Triellus to stop at Gamorr, so if you wanna go somewhere else you’re going to have to wait until after that.”

Obi-wan nodded, and waited until Solo was out of earshot before turning on the projector installed in the games table in front of him. He brought up the Holonet, knowing he was taking a risk. If the Captain checked his logs he would be suspicious, but Obi-wan intended to be off his ship by then. 

The codes he used were known only to a select few. There was little chance of the call being refused.

Bail Organa’s face, when he appeared, was a picture of shock and pleasure. “Obi-wan,” he said. “I’m glad to see you alive. After all these years I admit it's been hard to stop myself from worrying.”

“Contacting you before now would have put us both at risk.”

“Which raises the question of why you’re making this call.” Bail’s eyes narrowed, some of his relief souring. “Has something happened?”

“Yes.” Obi-wan wasn’t about to hide how serious this was. “Luke has been… I think the best term would be kidnapped.”

Bail went stiff. “Is there any risk to…”

Obi-wan shook his head quickly. “Not as far as I am aware. I do not fully understand what I’m facing though.”

“Tell me. Perhaps I can help.”

“Two beings dressed in Imperial uniforms. Force sensitives, who use the Dark Side and wield red lightsabers.” As Obi-wan continued his description he could see from Bail’s reaction that something about it sounded familiar to him. 

“I’ve heard of something like this,” Bail said. “They’re called Inquisitors. We know very little about them aside from that they hunt Jedi - and over the last few years there have been rumours of them taking children away from their parents.”

“And was there anything unusual about those children?” Obi-wan asked, suspicion sharpening. 

“You know that the Empire continued the Order’s midichlorian testing programme,” Bail said, which should have sounded like a change of topic if only it didn’t confirm what Obi was thinking. “It was never followed very closely on the Outer Rim however. And all these stolen children have been from the Rim.”

“So they’re taking Force sensitive children,” Obi-wan said, with growing horror. “Taking them  _ where _ , exactly?”

Bail shook his head. “I have no idea.”

“I have to find out.” Obi-wan sat back, trying to think. How was this embedded in Imperial infrastructure? Enough to be common knowledge at the military level? Unlikely. It seemed the sort of thing the Emperor would want to keep off the books. How was he even managing to find them? The Jedi Order had run the midichlorian testing in the former Republic independently, for fear of what the malicious or the Dark-inclined might be able to do with that information. Destroying the records in the Temple had been one of Obi-wan’s priorities before he left for Mustafar along with sending out that distress signal. 

He supposed it didn’t matter. The point was that it would be no easy task to learn anything about these Inquisitors, much less find Luke. 

“I’ll keep an ear out for any information,” Bail said. “Though I’m not sure how best to reach you now you’ve left Tatooine.”

“I will continue to check in when it’s safe,” Obi-wan assured him. “In the meantime, do you know anything about where these Inquisitors have been? Perhaps I can follow their tracks.”

“More rumour than fact,” Bail said. “It seems they tend to kill inconvenient witnesses. You might have more luck following those whispers than I would from here in the Core.” He was right about that. “There is… one other thing,” Bail said, after a brief hesitation. “I could put you in touch with another survivor of the Purge.”

“A survivor?” Hope came first, but a bitter caution followed swiftly behind. “I’m not certain it would be safe for them. If they’ve lasted this long they’re clearly careful, but word of my survival is going to spread. The Empire knows I’m alive now, and they  _ will _ be looking for me.”

“I doubt she’ll care. It’s Ahsoka.”

“Ahsoka…” Obi-wan closed his eyes as a surge of joy and relief welled up inside of him. He could feel tears pricking, but long habit and Tatooinian customs kept them from spilling. “I hadn’t dared to even hope.” Hope only led to pain since the end of the Clone Wars. He had grieved for his grand-padawan as he grieved for every single member of the Jedi Order until he was too torn-up inside and worn out to feel it anymore. Trying to reach out for her through the Force, into the vast emptiness where a thousand souls had once lit up the galaxy... that way led madness. 

“I haven’t told her about you,” Bail said. “I wondered if I should after I found her, but you were adamant you shouldn’t be disturbed, that the risk was too great.”

“You were right to do so,” Obi-wan said. Did he dare see Ahsoka again, when doing so would only put her in danger? Yet he  _ wanted  _ to, so much. “Where is she?”

“Nowhere fixed. I’ll let her know you’re alive and then we can arrange a meeting the next time you get in touch. Perhaps you’ll have managed to find a permanent secure comm by then?”

If a device secure enough to be trusted existed, out here on the edges of the Empire was the place to find it. 

“I will call again in a few days,” Obi-wan said. “If I don’t get in touch, assume things aren’t going well.”

Bail nodded, but paused before he cut the call. “Do you want to know how Leia is?” he asked. 

“I know she’s safe with you. Don’t tell me too much - the less that could be dragged out of me the better.” Assuming he survived long enough to be tortured. If Vader caught up with him, that was at least the only advantage to his certain death. 

Bail cut the call and left Obi-wan with a little more hope than he had before. Yet Luke was still captured, still in danger. He couldn’t take comfort in anything while that was still the case. 

\----

**9 BBY - Tatooine, Arkanis Sector, Outer Rim**

Darth Vader stood looking over the Lars homestead, his disgust sinking him deeply into the Dark Side and twisting his face into a snarl as much as was possible beneath heavy scar tissue. Sand whirled around his feet and his cape whipped in the sharp desert wind. At least he could not feel its bite, nor that of the twin suns overhead, inside the controlled environment of his suit. 

He did not need to feel to hate. Memory was more than enough for that. 

The body of the former Fifth Brother lay where he had fallen, moisture already being pulled from it as it slowly desiccated. Vader called the Inquisitor’s lightsaber to him and clipped it onto his belt. The kyber inside sang in tune with his hate, in tune with Vader’s own saber next to it, a quiet symphony that shaped the darkness into familiar patterns. It had a better purpose than lying here to be covered by the sand. 

Kenobi was gone. That much had been clear since breaching atmosphere. There was no echo of a presence in the desolate desert. No trace along the tattered remnant of what had once been their training bond. Only the faint shimmer that told Vader he had been here once - a ghost that led out into the Jundland wastes. During the time Vader had spent travelling here from Mustafar the local stormtroopers had made their own enquiries at his order, and reported the rumours in Anchorhead about some ‘crazy old hermit’ living as far away from civilisation as practically possible. 

It had been wise of Kenobi to come here. He knew how much Vader hated this place. He must have learned to hate it too after the first few months, and come to regret his choice in sheltering on this hellish world. He felt a dull and bitter satisfaction at the thought of Kenobi suffering, as Anakin Skywalker had suffered as a boy. Perhaps it had illuminated Kenobi to the kind of understanding he had never bothered with before. 

Kenobi had dared to associate with the Lars though. That drove another wedge of hatred deeper into the boiling mess that was everything Vader felt about his former Master. This place… Skywalker’s mother was buried here. Vader was not Skywalker, had shed the weaknesses of that man, and yet… the thought of Kenobi profaning this place with his presence felt deeply wrong. Hadn’t Kenobi done enough to him already? Was his hate for Vader so great that he had to rub salt into the wounds of his mutilation on Mustafar? 

Vader let the rage sink deep into his bones, pulling the Dark Side with it. The strength of darkness was in the winds that surrounded him, a raging tempest that bowed to  _ his _ will. He did not bother to search the homestead. There was nothing left for him here. Nothing that he should care about - that a  _ Sith _ should care about. If there was anything to be learned at the hovel Kenobi called home he would find it, and then he would pursue him out into the stars. He would not find it so easy to hide away from Tatooine’s protection. 

Then, when Vader tracked him down, Kenobi would pay the price for all his misdeeds. 

\----

**9 BBY - Arkanis, Arkanis Sector, Outer Rim**

“Come on then,” the masked woman said, holding the door of their cage open. “Time to go.” 

Luke wondered if he could make a break for it with Zar and Banee. Just run out past her and towards the exit ramp. Or maybe it would be better to wait until they were outside - they didn’t know yet what ‘outside’ would be like. There could be any kind of dangers… 

The slaver made an irritated sound and reached out like she was trying to grab thin air. Luke shivered involuntarily, all the hairs on his body suddenly standing straight up as the temperature plummeted - and then he  _ felt _ something tightening around him. He cried out as it dragged him forwards and out of the cage along with the other two kids. Struggling against it was like struggling against air - nothing to push against. Or… or maybe he was doing it wrong. If he could feel it around him he ought to be able to fight it, right? 

“Don’t bother running.” The woman sounded frustrated but also almost bored. Luke got the sense she wanted to get this over with. “This is an Imperial base. If I don’t catch you the stormtroopers will, and you won’t like the punishment for forcing us to make the effort.” 

“We don’t like any of this!” Zar said, baring his fangs. 

That got a short laugh. “You aren’t here to  _ like _ things. Keep the attitude though, it just might help.” She said that in a nasty sort of way, and Luke didn’t know if she was kidding or not. 

The Imperial let them mill around in the cargo hold as she went over to the loading ramp and hit the controls. With a hiss the ramp started to lower, and the first thing Luke was aware of was the smell of  _ water _ .  _ Lots _ of water. He took a deep breath in and tasted the blast of fresh air from outside on his tongue. It was cold and damp and… and it reminded him strongly of the inside of a vaporator. A hissing sound was filtering in as the noise of the ramp’s hydraulics stopped, thin but constant. 

“What’s that?” he said before he could think better of asking questions. 

The woman’s head tilted, and she gave another short, sharp laugh. “They don’t have rain where you’re from, do they?” she said, mostly to herself, and then gestured for the three of them to head down the ramp in front of her. 

There was water falling from the sky. Luke couldn't help himself, he stopped at the bottom of the ramp and just…  _ looked _ at it. There seemed to be no end of it, pouring down and splattering in puddles everywhere on the wide expanse of black duracrete in front of the ship. It streamed off the buildings in the distance, and off the blank white armour of a group of stormtroopers… who were standing waiting for them. 

Stormtroopers. The slaver had been telling the truth - it wouldn’t be a good idea to run. Luke was fast on his feet, but he didn’t think he was faster than a fully grown adult. Besides, now that he was looking somewhere other than the sky he could see that there was a tall wall in the distance topped with barbed wire, and beyond  _ that _ was something… green. Lots of something green. 

Trees. Luke had seen pictures of them, and they were so far away that this was basically the same, but even so.  _ Trees _ . 

“I don’t have all day,” the woman said, and gave him a shove forwards. “Get moving.”

The rain turned out to be cold, like it had just been pumped out of a deep storage tank, and when it was hitting his skin and soaking quickly through his thin clothes it made  _ him _ cold really quickly. Luke moved faster just to warm himself up, starting to shiver and having to keep pushing his wet hair out of his eyes. Water was life, it wasn’t meant to be uncomfortable like this! He barely even cared about the stormtroopers following them or the Imperial agent at their back. He just wanted to get inside - and they were heading towards the buildings. Or was it one big building just spread out a whole lot? 

Either way it was a relief to duck in through a set of blast doors and be met with relatively warmer air. Inside, the masked woman took the lead. Luke had an impression of blank corridor after blank corridor studded with unlabeled doors as they walked, before ending up at another set of big, even heftier blast doors. The slaver tapped something against a control panel, and the doors slid open. 

There was a droid waiting for them inside. It was tall and sturdy, painted a dull black. It had the Imperial cog on both shoulders. 

“These are the new arrivals?” it asked. 

“Obviously,” the woman said. “Take them off my hands. I need to debrief.” 

The droid nodded. “Follow me, younglings,” it said. Luke wondered if this was the time to run, but he was cold and shivering and he didn’t think he could make it back through the base without getting lost. By the glances he shared with Zar and Banee, they didn’t think so either. He followed the droid. 

It took them up in a turbolift and then along a corridor that curved and might have made a complete circle if they’d gone all the way around it. Instead the droid pushed first Banee then Zar gently through individual doors before doing the same to Luke. 

“Why are you splitting us up? What’s going on?” Luke tried to ask, but the droid ignored him completely. 

It had pushed him into a small room. There was a narrow bed with thin sheets, a small alcove with places to hang clothes, and a curtain covering the entrance to what turned out to be a small ‘fresher. The shower had a sonics setting, but when he played around with the buttons a stream of  _ hot water _ came out of it. 

Luke was hesitant to even think about wasting water, but by the amount of it coming down outside, that couldn’t be a problem here. Right? 

Mostly to get warm rather than to get clean, he took a very quick shower, and managed to get dry with a stiff, not very absorbent black towel that was hanging on the wall. At least it smelled clean - the whole place smelled clean with a slight undertone of disinfectants. 

Was this the kind of room they put a slave in? If so, why not say anything about what they wanted from them? Nothing about this made sense. 

Luke sat down on the bed. It wasn’t too uncomfortable. There was a small window in the wall opposite the door, he noticed, but it was high up and didn’t look like it opened. He could just see a little bit of grey sky outside. There was nothing to do in here. Nothing to stop his mind going round in circles. 

Eventually he gave up trying to think of answers, lay down, and did his best to go to sleep. 

\----

Tenth Sister brushed some rainwater off the shoulders of her uniform and went to see who was in charge around here right now. The lower ranked Inquisitors tended to cycle through to manage this part of Project Harvester, and she’d done it herself in between searching for children. Eleventh Brother had been here last time, but he’d suggested it was about time for him to move on. 

She let herself into the main office, then came up short when she saw who was behind the desk. “Ninth Sister,” she said carefully. “I didn’t expect to see you here.”

Ninth Sister gave her a wide grin. “Tenth. Guess you’ve brought me some fresh meat. Why so surprised to see me? I’ve gotta put the work in like everybody else.”

Tenth Sister said nothing. It might not be a good idea to let on the reasons for her surprise. 

“Because I fought a Jedi a few years back and lived to talk about it?” Ninth suggested, with that same grin that only pretended at being friendly. She waggled the fingers of her right, cybernetic hand, the metal left bare for everyone to see the same way she left her leg. “I shoulda been able to kill a Padawan really. I reckon I lost that battle as well as my hand, so I’m not about to think I’m better than I am. Don’t mind coming here to take it easy for a bit in between hunting for more Jedi artefacts with Second Sister.”

Tenth Sister looked her over cautiously. Ninth liked to do this - offer supposed weakness like a treat on a plate and wait for someone to think they could take advantage. Then the trap snapped shut around whoever that was. She wasn’t foolish enough to take Ninth Sister’s dare. 

“Fifth Brother is dead,” she said instead. “We had to stop for repairs on Tatooine, and it turned out a Jedi had been hiding there.”

Ninth Sister’s eyes widened behind the protective lenses of her helm. “You kill them instead?” 

Tenth Sister was quick to shake her head. “It was General Kenobi,” she said. 

Ninth slapped her desk and let out a low whistle. “Shavit! No kidding?”

Tenth tapped the side of her helmet. “99% match on facial recognition. I called it in with Lord Vader himself. He… seemed pleased.”

“Yeah, I’m not about to get in the middle of  _ that _ .” For a moment her gaze looked distant. “Can you imagine watching that fight though. It sure would be something.” 

“That’s Lord Vader’s problem anyway,” Tenth said. “It means a space has opened in the ranks though.”

Ninth Sister waved her off. “Not like either of us will be filling it. Let the boys fight it out - and tell me about the younglings you brought. Three, was it? Any of them got potential?”

If she hadn’t felt it yet, she would the moment she got within a hundred feet of the human boy. “There is one. Human, about ten standard. He’s  _ strong _ . I suppose it’s possible he won’t have what it takes to use the Dark Side, but I doubt it from the way he fought us. After he’s trained though… he’ll be an Inquisitor for sure.”

“I’ll keep an eye out,” Ninth Sister said. “He has to get through the droid stages first though.”

“He will,” Tenth Sister said, suddenly certain of it. “The Force is with him.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ninth Sister, watching the canon Vader+Obi fight: What the shit is this???


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Luke's training on Arkanis begins, Obi-wan's travels continue, and Ahsoka recieves some welcome news.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content Warning for the chapter: torture of a child, themes around slavery.

**9 BBY - Arkanis, Arkanis Sector, Outer Rim**

Luke didn’t know how he managed to sleep so deeply, but at some point the horrid memories that kept replaying in his mind must have slipped away. He didn’t dream, or at least, he didn’t remember dreaming when he was prodded awake by something cold and metallic the next day. He startled awake, tangling himself up in the thin covers and letting out a yell. 

A droid was staring down at him. It looked the same as the droid from last night, but there might be more than one. “You will follow me,” it said. 

Luke sat up, already shivering. His clothes had been too wet to put back on after his shower, and it was a lot colder here than Tatooine. Even indoors on Tatooine. He clutched the blankets to himself and tried to wake up properly. The droid wanted him to go with it, so… where? Some place with breakfast, maybe? That would be good - he hadn’t eaten anything last night and his stomach gave a loud rumble as he realised how hungry he actually was. 

He would need something to wear though. 

“Get up,” the droid said. “You will come with me.” 

“I’m coming,” Luke said, not wanting to annoy an Imperial droid. He still had no idea what was going on here, what all of this was about. The slaver had left him here, but why? 

He kept the blanket wrapped over his shoulders as he slid off the bed and went to check if his clothes were dry yet. They weren’t totally, but it wasn’t like there was anything else to wear. He got dressed, not really worried about a droid seeing him in his underwear, and then looked over at it expectantly. “I’m ready.”

The droid led him out of his room and round the curve of the corridor to the turbolift. It had a code cylinder or something like that built into its wrist, because it just had to wave for the lift to activate. They sank downwards, and Luke shifted uneasily. “Are my friends going to be wherever we’re going?” he asked. 

“Friends?” The droid sounded confused. 

“Yeah. Zar and Banee - you know. I was brought in with them. They’re in some of the other rooms.”

The droid just looked at him. It didn’t reply, and after a while under the flat gaze of its optics Luke looked away. Okay. It wasn’t going to tell him then. That was… not good? Were… were they even still here, in this building? What if they’d been taken away in the night? What if he was all alone here? There had to be some way he could find out, but not with this droid keeping an eye on him.

They left the turbolift on a floor Luke didn’t recognise, and he was led through a few more identical-looking corridors into a big room with white walls and a lot of complicated equipment. There was another droid here, a different sort. It was kind of familiar, but Luke had to really think back to realise why. 

“Are you a medical droid?” he asked it. He thought Unc… No. Painful thoughts. He thought he’d been taken to one to get some important injections done when he was much younger. 

“Affirmative,” the droid said, beckoning him over. “I am a GH-8 model, and you are here for a check-up.”

That didn’t sound so bad. Luke had heard some owners didn’t even care if their slaves were healthy or not, especially Hutts, because they were rich enough they could just replace someone who died. He hadn’t really… thought too hard about what things like that that meant, except that it was all really terrible and unfair. His aunt and uncle had tried to make it so he didn’t hear people gossiping about stuff like that when he went into Anchorhead with them. 

Another painful thought. He tried to push it out of his mind, and climbed up on the examination table the droid was pointing at. 

Luke sat through various poking and prodding and scanning and blood tests without complaining. He felt pretty okay except for being hungrier and hungrier, and if they were going to keep him healthy then that would just make it easier to escape! When he had a chance to. He hadn’t seen an opportunity yet, but he knew he could be patient if he really had to be. 

He would just feel a lot better if Banee or Zar were here too. 

“You are in acceptable physical condition,” the med-droid said. Luke wasn’t really paying it much attention, caught up in his own thoughts, but he started to slip down off the table when he heard that. It put a hand out to stop him, and then it  _ tried to put something round his neck _ . 

Luke yelped, trying to push it off him and scramble away, but it had more arms than he did. It managed to hold him still, and the whatever-it-was clicked as it snapped closed. The droid let go of him and Luke’s hands shot up to feel what it had just put on him. 

It was a collar. A slave collar. 

Luke panicked. He knew about collars, which were what slavers used when they couldn't be bothered to put a bomb inside you just yet, and he had a good imagination. He didn’t want them to blow his head off! He tried to get his fingers up underneath the collar as though he could just… pull it off him, but it was snug to the skin. Not as bulky as the slave collars he had sometimes seen from a distance, some part of his mind noticed, and not heavy enough to be that uncomfortable, but… but… It could malfunction! Something could go wrong! 

“Stop that,” the medical droid said, pulling his hands away from the collar. 

Luke was breathing too fast, and his head felt funny. Light and hazy. There was a mechanical sigh from the droid, and then a sharp sting against his shoulder. 

Luke sagged and almost fell off the table as sudden calm swept through him. His whole body felt very heavy, and... all his thoughts were going away. 

“What was that about?” the med-droid said. It sounded grumpy. It didn’t have any right to be grumpy, Luke thought hazily. 

“Gonna blow me up,” he said. It was sort of hard to talk. Too much effort. 

“No,” the droid said. “It’s not that kind of collar.”

Luke managed to make a questioning noise. He was still worried about dying horribly, but it was distant, like there was a wall between that part of him and the him that was him. 

“The collar can be used to cause pain. Not to kill outright. If you die here it will be your own fault, not ours.”

Luke didn’t really understand what GH-8 meant by that, but he did feel very sleepy again. “Mmmf,” he said. 

“He is meant to go to the exercise hall next,” the other droid said. 

“He must first sleep off the sedative,” GH-8 replied. “He will not be good for anything for an hour at least.”

“He is not complying with the schedule…” The conversation dissolved into meaningless noise as Luke felt heavier and heavier. Then he was asleep. 

\----

Luke was still in the medical centre when he woke up. His head hurt, and his mouth felt dry and tasted strange. He sat up, groaning at how  _ weird _ he felt. Why was he here again? What had been going on...? He stiffened as his memory came back, and he grabbed for the collar around his throat. Yeah. It was still there. 

He looked around and found GH-8 staring at him. 

“Time to go,” the droid said. “That’s more than enough rest for one day.”

Luke winced. Yeah, whatever they wanted from their slaves snoozing certainly wasn’t it. Moving carefully to stop his head from swimming, he got down off the examination table. His guide droid, or whatever it was meant to be, was still in the room waiting for him. Droids weren’t generally programmed to get impatient though, we’re they? 

“Sorry,” he said anyway, because it felt like the right thing to do. The droid didn’t acknowledge him, but opened the door and started to lead him somewhere else. 

That somewhere else turned out to be a room about the same size as the medbay, but a bit taller. The walls were made up of panels that looked like they could be moved, but whatever that was all about didn’t seem like it was going to be revealed right now. 

“You have wasted an hour today,” the droid said. “We have been lenient - this is not a mercy that will be repeated. Each morning you will be woken and brought here. You will exercise for two hours before you will have earned food. There is an hour remaining to do so today.”

Luke frowned. “Exercise? Why?” Were they trying to toughen him up or something? It seemed odd though - even if they were it would make more sense to give a slave some kind of light duty not… whatever this was. 

“Full orientation will come later.”

So that was unhelpful. He was still a bit groggy, but an hour of exercise wasn’t really that bad he supposed. “What exactly am I supposed to do?” 

The droid pointed. “Run.”

\----

Luke wasn’t actually able to  _ run _ for a whole hour, not without having to stop and pant a whole lot. The droid didn’t seem to care though as long as he looked like he was trying, he quickly figured out. It didn’t feel  _ good _ , not with the drugs still wearing off or not having had anything to eat for  _ so long _ , and by the end of it he was mostly just walking with his muscles all shivery and shaking. He kind of thought he might throw up actually, which was an awful thought. His body couldn’t decide if it was starving or nauseous, and he was really thirsty too. 

At least that felt familiar. In summer on Tatooine it sometimes didn’t matter how much you drank, you still felt dry. 

The droid called a halt, and then it was more walking through boring corridors that Luke was barely able to pay attention to before the droid let him sit down and pushed a bowl of something beige in front of him. Luke stared at it for a moment, then managed to pick up the spoon and give it a try. His stomach quickly realised that it was hungry after all, actually, and the bowl was gone quickly. The taste wasn’t much of anything, but he didn’t care. 

He was still hungry afterwards. Luke wondered if he dared ask for more. 

The droid took the bowl away from him and put it behind another wall panel to go somewhere. A chute to the kitchens? He still had no idea how this place worked. “Now orientation,” it said. 

Luke blinked. They wanted him to concentrate on something, right now? 

The lights in the room were dialing down while one wall lit up as an image was projected onto it. The Imperial cog, Luke realised once it was dark enough to see it properly. Then the image transitioned to show the face of an alien species Luke didn’t recognise. The man had a tall skull, grey skin, sharp teeth, and red markings that could have been natural, tattoos, or paint. His eyes were a bright, almost metallic, gold. 

“Greetings youngling,” the man said. “Welcome to Project Harvester and Area Null. You are here because unlike most of the inhabitants of this galaxy, you have the potential to become something more. You have the potential to be a great servant of our glorious Emperor. If you are worthy of it, you will bring order to troubled planets, and safeguard the loyal citizens of our Empire from those whose actions and philosophies could bring them very grave harm.”

Luke wasn’t sure about this. It didn’t sound at all right for what had happened to him. Uncle Owen and Aunt Beru had never done anything to harm the Empire - not that Tatooine was part of the Empire in more than name. They were just ordinary people -  _ he  _ was just an ordinary person! What was so valuable about him that the Empire wanted to… to  _ kill them _ and take him as a slave and then just pretend like that was the same as being a ‘servant of the Emperor’ or whatever! 

“You may have been brought here from a variety of different backgrounds,” the alien continued. “Your past no longer matters. Your former name no longer matters. You are nothing now but your potential, and  _ that _ is the only thing you now control. 

“You will be trained. You will be tested. You must prove that you are worthy of the power that we can give you, that you are worthy of breaking the chains of mediocrity which hold you now. It will be a difficult process. You may not survive it. There is no room for weakness here, for the Empire cannot afford to put its fate into the hands of those who do not have the strength to do what must be done. 

“Succeed, or perish.”

It was a pre-recorded message, it wasn’t like Luke could argue with it. It sounded like a load of banthashit though. He didn’t  _ want _ to be a servant of the Empire! He just wanted to be a normal kid! Sure, he’d always wanted to be a pilot when he grew up and when he thought about that it was usually flying a TIE-fighter like he’d seen in the holos, but… somehow that had been different. 

His aunt and uncle had still been alive in that vision of the future, for one thing. 

This might have given him a better idea of what was going to happen next, but it  _ really _ didn’t explain why him, of all people? The alien had said something about his potential, but that had been really vague. Potential for what? He supposed it didn’t really matter. He was here, and even if they weren’t going to call him a slave he knew that he was. He either had to do what they wanted, or get out of here, and he didn’t have any idea how to to that second one just yet. 

The vid had transitioned to explaining about his schedule now, which seemed to be exercise, breakfast, schooling, lunch, different sorts of exercise, dinner, more lessons, and then bed. No holidays and no time to himself Luke bet. Besides, what were these lessons going to cover exactly? Another thing they were being vague about. How great the Empire was probably, as though that would make him forget about what it had done to him!

Luke sighed. He didn’t want to despair, but… he didn’t see a way out of this.

\----

**9 BBY - Gamorr, Opoku System, Galov Sector, Outer Rim**

“You’re certain this is secure?” Obi-wan asked. “I don’t want the Empire interfering with my business.” 

The Gamorrean across the table from him gave an emphatic grunt, and he could sense their honesty in the Force. “Secure,” they said. “Good enough for a Hutt even.”

Obi-wan raised an eyebrow. “That’s quite a claim.” 

The trader gestured to the small shop and its variety of illicit goods openly displayed. Like Tatooine, the Empire had little sway here compared to the Hutts and various other criminal organisations. There were many who wished to avoid the attention of the Empire or their rivals. 

He set a pile of credit chips down and slid them over. “You have a deal.” 

He left the covered market into a light rain which dripped from the trees scattered along the streets between the clay-brick houses and shops. Dark as his situation still was, he couldn’t help but smile at the sight. It had been a long time since he’d seen this much water and he had very much missed it. He had dreamed of water often on Tatooine, lashing downpours, rushing rivers, wild oceans, as the desert seemed to suck every molecule of moisture out of him as the years dragged by. 

The Gamorreans were not a people much given to beauty, but they had made some concessions here to the sensibilities of offworlders. Obi-wan found a small park that was otherwise deserted and settled onto a bench to test his new communicator. A few minutes of experimentation and fiddling with the settings later, he was able to log in to one of the Order’s old undercover accounts and found it still untouched after a decade and a half. He had hoped so, but it was always possible the Emperor had found out about these accounts and shut them down. They had no  _ obvious _ connection to the Order naturally, but when it came to the Sith one could never be truly safe. 

A source of funds secured, Obi-wan headed out of the fortress town back towards the landing fields. Prior to purchasing the comm he had spent a few hours rotating around the small number of drinking holes here, but aside from directions to a reputable salesperson there had been no other useful information. Gamorr was simply too irrelevant to the dealings of the larger galaxy. He needed to travel to a more civilised world, although that would hold its own dangers.

There were only a few vessels at the landing fields, and Obi-wan recognised several of them as Hutt-owned. Frowning, he took a few moments to assess his options. There really was only one obvious choice. Sighing, he strode over the damp grass towards the  _ Millennium Falcon _ . 

“Back again?” Captain Solo said, seeing him coming. “Thought our business was done.”

Obi-wan spread his hands with a peaceful smile. “Unfortunately it appears that no-one here has the information I’m looking for, and as you can see for yourself my options for onwards travel are limited. I wonder, where do you and your Wookie friend plan to head next?” 

Han looked around the landing field, and rolled his eyes. “Yeah, not a lot of choice is there.” He shrugged. “You paid me fair and square, so I guess you’re at least that trustworthy. We’re heading to Formos to pick up a spice shipment from Kessel, then I’m expecting a call from Jabba to let me know where to take it. If you’re looking for info, Formos is a good place to go. Lots of dive bars, sabbac games, bored smugglers and spacers looking to talk and fight. If you’ve still got the credits to pay for passage, sure you can come with us.”

That sounded much more promising than Gamorr. “Thank you Captain Solo. You’ve been very helpful.”

For some reason that made the young man scowl. “Don’t go thinking this makes us friends or anything,” he said. “You’re just a passenger.”

Ah - just a criminal’s wariness of attachments then. In Solo’s line of work, friends could be as much a liability as an asset. “Just a passenger,” he agreed. 

\----

**9 BBY - Kestos Minor, Kwymar Sector, Outer Rim Territories**

Ahsoka picked up the call almost the moment it came through. “Bail? Is something wrong?” They always kept very close comms discipline - he would only be contacting her if there was something time-sensitive that couldn’t wait until after her current mission. Time sensitive, or too important to put off. 

Bail didn’t look worried on the holo though. “Not _wrong_ exactly, Fulcrum. Are you safe?” By which he also meant, are you safe to speak. 

“We landed on Kestos Minor a few days ago,” she reported. “They’re struggling here, but we expected that. The Kwymar Suppressions have had a big impact on all of the planets in this sector. I don’t know how much remaining resistance we’ll find here, but it’s safe to say lots of the locals resent what the Empire did. I just don’t know if their fear outweighs that.”

Bail nodded. “If there is anything we can do to help them, we will,” he said. “The Rebellion has suffered defeats against the Empire many times, but we can never give up our hope or else everything is lost. However, that wasn’t exactly what I was hoping to speak to you about.”

His expression changed. It was harder to read in the small holo-image, but Ahsoka thought it was… shame? That didn’t make sense. What reason would Bail have to be ashamed? 

“There is something I haven’t told you,” he said. “Something that you have a right to know.”

“That sounds ominous,” she said, frowning. She reached out for the Force, trying to get a sense of the situation. It didn’t feel  _ bad _ , exactly. Almost the opposite in fact. 

“I’ve been aware of another survivor of the Jedi Purge for… a long time now,” Bail said. “I knew about him since the fall of the Republic, in fact, and I avoided mentioning it to you to keep him safe.”

Ahsoka’s first reaction was pain, a sharp stab of betrayal. Bail knew about another Jedi and hadn’t told her? There were so few of them left, so few flares of light in the darkness, didn’t she deserve…? Then her more rational mind kicked in, and she took a deep breath, letting her negative emotions flow out into the Force. Bail had been right to do this. Ahsoka was a rebel. A spy. She ran the risk of capture at all times, and the Empire would be very keen on torturing the location of another Jedi out of her. 

“What’s changed?” she asked. “There must be a reason you’re telling me this now.” And in the middle of a mission, at that. 

“The Empire found out that he’s alive,” Bail said, and yes that certainly explained it. “He had to run. Under the circumstances, you might be safer together than apart. Besides which, he has a mission of his own that he could use your help with.” 

Ahsoka nodded. She would hardly have blamed any Jedi from finding a safe refuge and never venturing out again - sometimes she still wanted to do that herself. Even so she was glad this one had decided to join them now. It would be good to have another Force-user with the Rebel Alliance. “So, who is it? Anyone I know?”

Bail winced, just slightly. “Yes. It’s Obi-wan Kenobi.”

“Master Kenobi’s alive?!”

Bail nodded. Ahsoka could hardly think, she had so many emotions welling up inside her and fighting for space in her mind. Obi-wan… she’d been sure he must be dead. She knew he’d survived the mission to kill Grievous because he’d been at the temple - he was the one who sent out that warning message - but how had he managed to get off of Coruscant? 

Of course. Bail must have managed to smuggle him out. That explained why he knew about Obi-wan. Where had her grand-master been hiding for so long? Ahsoka had never sensed anything in the Force to suggest that he was alive. Thankfully it seemed neither had the Emperor, or any of the Dark side users like the one she’d fought on Raada - at least not until now. 

“Where is he? Does he need help? If we need to we can leave…”

“As far as I know Obi-wan is safe,” Bail said, cutting through what had rapidly been shading into panic. “He’s on the move. He didn’t know about you either before this, for similar reasons. Although he was worried it might not be safe, he’s agreed to meet with you. He’ll get back in touch with me soon - depending on how secure things are on Kestos Minor and how he’s traveling, it might be safest for him to meet you there. If not, we’ll figure something out.”

Ahsoka did her best to gather her thoughts. “The Imps keep a close eye on any potential rebel activity around here,” she said. “It’s certainly not impossible though -  _ we’ve  _ managed to stay under their radar.”

“Then I’ll comm again when I have more information,” Bail said, and terminated the call. 

Ahsoka sat back in her seat and took a few deep breaths in and out. Obi-wan. Alive. She almost laughed out loud in relief and joy. She was going to see him again. It had been so long. It might not be realistic, but she couldn’t help but feel like everything would be alright once they were together again. She had always felt safe when Obi-wan was around, even when they were in the absolute worst of situations. He had never let her down - she didn’t count what had happened around the Temple bombing. Obi had done what he could, and… maybe she was better out of the Order anyway. 

She got up, tucking her comm away, and went through into the main living area of the abandoned farmhouse. She had to share the good news. 

“Ahsoka?” Rex said, looking up from where he was cleaning his blaster and visibly double-taking. “What did Bail have to say - you look… shocked.”

“I suppose I am,” she said, aware that she was starting to smile - without context she must look like she was losing it. “Rex… Obi-wan’s alive. Bail knows where he is - we’re going to see him again.”

The blaster clattered onto the tabletop. Rex’s eyes went wide. “General Kenobi… He survived? How?” 

“I have no idea - but I think Bail was involved.”

“You mean he’s known all this time? And he didn’t tell you?”  _ Or me _ , was the half of that sentence he didn’t say out loud. She heard it though, in the Force.

“I understand his reasons. I was angry too at first but… I’m just too relieved.” 

Rex stood up and grabbed her into a tight hug. “Kriff,” he said. His voice was thick with emotion. “Kriff, I am as well. I can hardly even believe that it’s true, but if Bail said it…” They stood there like that for a moment, and having a friend here helped Ahsoka to centre herself. Then Rex said, “Do you think General Kenobi might… know what happened to Skywalker?”

Ahsoka went still. It was the question she had avoided asking herself. She’d  _ felt _ her Master’s light go out of the galaxy right at the start of Order 66. She knew he was dead. They both knew. Obi-wan would have still been on Utapau at that point, if she had the timeline straight in her head, but he’d returned to Coruscant. Perhaps he had… had seen… 

“I don’t know,” she said. “But just seeing Obi-wan again will be more than enough.”

\----

**9 BBY - Arkanis, Arkanis Sector, Outer Rim**

The days dragged past each other and Luke’s new routine actually started to feel normal. He didn’t like that it did. Nothing about this was right, and he still wanted desperately to escape, but he was starting to believe that wasn’t going to happen. There was always a droid watching him except for when he was in his room at night, and then the door was locked and there was no other way out. He’d tried to pry off some of the panels on the walls to look at the circuitry below, but he didn’t have anything he could use to lever at the tiny cracks between the metal. He always felt so tired at the end of the day anyway, and missing sleep made things twice as hard the next day. He still hadn’t seen Zar or Banee. He hadn’t seen  _ anyone  _ at all this whole time other than the droids. 

It was weird. And lonely. Mostly very, very lonely. 

Most of the lessons he had to do weren’t that different to the holo-learning course he’d been taking at home. He guessed it must be some standard thing they gave to every kid that went to school in the Empire - that’s where the Tatooine course came from too. Like the Hutts would bother to make one of their own when they could just pirate one and tweak it a bit to make them look good! It wasn’t exactly the same though - there was a lot more about how great the Empire was and how bad things had been before when the Republic had been in charge. 

Luke wasn’t sure if he trusted it. Uncle Owen and Aunt Beru hadn’t said much about the Republic - and it still hurt  _ so much _ to think about them. He wouldn’t let the pain stop him from remembering them though. He had to honour their memory. It was the only thing he had left of them. 

It was tough to pay attention to the lessons. He still had to exercise in the mornings and then he was so tired it was hard to concentrate. There hadn’t been a test yet, but he wasn’t looking forward to it. He didn’t think he was going to do well, and they - whoever  _ they _ even were when all he ever saw were droids! - would  _ not _ be pleased about that. 

He was just so fed up and frustrated with it! 

That morning it all got too much for him. Luke sat down in the middle of the exercise room when the droid - who refused to give its designation - brought him there. 

“What are you doing?” the droid asked. It didn’t sound like it had much of a reaction; not angry, or frustrated, or  _ anything _ . That just made Luke more annoyed. 

“I’m not doing it,” he said. “I’m hungry, and I’m already tired, and I can’t concentrate on my lessons properly when you make me run around in circles every morning! It’s pointless, and it’s not fair, and I’m not going to do it!”

The droid tilted its head to one side and looked him over. Then all of a sudden, there was pain. 

Luke went rigid and tried to yell as it felt like every part of his body was lighting up like a thousand needles were digging into his skin. Whatever he’d been thinking went out of his head completely as he collapsed onto his side on the floor and screamed, writhing as he did his best to make it stop. It was worst around his neck, agony driving straight up his spine into his brain, and it was… it was… 

Eventually, it stopped. Luke didn’t know how long it had been. It felt like eternity. 

His eyes were wet with tears, but he didn’t remember starting to cry. He breathed in wet, hitching sobs. His skin was still tingling and he felt stiff and sore. 

“You will run, as you are instructed,” the droid told him. “Unless you would prefer to be punished again?”

“No!” Luke shouted - or tried to. His throat hurt. “No, please don’t.” Fear shot through him almost as sharp as the pain had been. He didn’t know what he’d expected the shock collar to feel like, when they used it, but he hadn’t been able to imagine something as bad as  _ that _ . He did his best to scramble to his feet, but his arms and legs didn’t quite want to obey him, twitching like they had a life of their own. Eventually, he managed it. 

“Well?” the droid said. 

Luke managed to stumble into a jog. He felt weak and sick, and he hoped he was going fast enough. After a while he started to feel less clumsy, and it became easier to move. He was able to make it through the two hours without collapsing, even though he really felt like he was going to for what had to be at least the last half-hour. 

He ate breakfast even more ravenously than usual. At least they gave him plenty of food stretched throughout the day, for all it was boring nutrient paste. Concentrating on his lessons after that was just as hard as he had been worrying, but Luke did his best. He was now sure he knew what the punishment for doing badly on a test was going to be and… and he just  _ couldn’t _ . 

He should try harder to fight them, he knew he ought to, but… what was he supposed to do? 


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Obi-wan continues his search for information before his rendevous with Ahsoka, and Luke's training moves on to another phase. 
> 
> Chapter content warnings: PTSD flashback, use of propaganda

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This fic has a lot more Kenobi in it than I initially intended. I actually was going to have Vader kill him on Tatooine but then I realised how much of a waste of story potential that would be. So instead you get to experience some nice Order 66 angst.
> 
> (I should also mention I haven't watched CW Season 7 yet, so my info on that is from trying to read the minimum possible on wookiepedia.)

**9 BBY - Formos, Kessel Sector, Outer Rim**

“Twenty one,” the weequay said, spreading her cards out on the table between them. The other players had already folded or bombed out of the round, leaving the pot to the two of them. Obi-wan gave her a smile, and set his own hand down. 

“Twenty three I’m afraid, my dear.” 

She bared her teeth with a sudden flash of violent intent through the Force, but it vanished before he had to think about making a move to defend himself. She shook her head, cursing, but sat back waving her hand at the pile of credits. “You’re better at this than you look,” she said. 

“Thank you,” Obi-wan replied. “I do have a proposition for you, if you wanted to earn some of your money back.”

The pirate gave him a cautious look. “You’re not my type, and I don’t tumble anyone for credits.”

“That’s not what I meant,” Obi-wan said, having to suppress his own embarrassment. He’d been to plenty of places like this before in his life as a Jedi Padawan, Knight and Master - he knew how they worked, what sort of expectations their denizens had. It had just… been some time on Tatooine. Easy to get used to a certain isolation. “I happened to notice you talking to that Imp over there earlier.”

The weequay looked in the direction he was pointing, and her nose wrinkled. “You trying to muscle in on the spice trade around here? Not a good idea, old man.” 

Obi-wan resisted the urge to object that he hadn’t even passed fifty standard yet. Tatooine had obviously aged him more than he’d thought. He was only going grey at the temples and part of his beard! Surely that didn’t qualify him as old? 

“So she  _ is  _ involved with the spice trade?” he said. 

“Yeah, if that’s really where you’re going with this.”

“Forgive me, I’m new to this line of employment - is she here in her official capacity? Or is the Empire’s involvement with spice off the books?”

The pirate grinned. “Oh, the Imps round here are as corrupt as they come. I don’t think their Moff or whoever’s up the chain cares though. I mean, their government has to know, right? There’s spice mined other places than Kessel, but most of the stuff still comes from there, and it’s Imp controlled. Their slaves are the ones digging it out. So where else do they think it’s all going?”

“I assume she plays sabbac?”

“Everyone does.”

Obi-wan smiled. “I’d love an introduction - for the right price naturally.”

Not long after, ‘Ben Wessel’, aspiring spice smuggler, slid into a seat opposite Captain Mal Quirrin and asked, “Would you care for a game?” 

“Why not?” she said, and raised an eyebrow at her tablemates. They were dressed more casually than she was, but Obi-wan still recognised Imperial officers when he saw them. He might be taking too much of a risk in doing this, but he hoped people who dealt so frequently with pirates, smugglers, and other criminals did not pay too much attention to the latest bounty notices. 

“Sure,” said a man with his arm around the waist of a twi’lek woman, and fished some credits out of his pocket. “I’m Garik, by the way.” No last name offered. 

“Yuven,” the other man said, with a nod of acknowledgement. “I’m in too.”

Quirrin shuffled the deck, then started to deal. “So, you’re interested in work,” she said. 

“Yes and no,” Obi-wan said, reaching out with the Force. Her mind felt sharp and solid - he doubted he would be able to influence her significantly, but all he needed was a subtle suggestion towards trust. “Work is always appreciated, but I already have something lined up in that respect. I actually wanted to speak to you on another matter.”

Another arch of an elegant eyebrow. “I’m listening.”

“I’ve been hired to look for someone, and last I heard they’d been taken into Imperial custody.” It was very nearly the truth. 

She sighed. “If your target’s been foolish enough to be arrested, then I don’t know what you’re expecting. Releasing prisoners is outside of  _ my _ remit, even if you could afford to pay off everyone involved.” There wasn’t even a reaction at the notion he might be trying to bribe someone out of an Imperial prison. Given where they were it shouldn’t have surprised him, yet it did. 

“Well that’s just it,” Obi-wan continued. “I don’t even know if they  _ have _ been arrested. It seems unlikely to me, given they’re still a child.” He threw that last bit out with an affected air of nonchalance, fishing for a reaction. 

Captain Quirrin  _ did  _ show some surprise at that, quickly followed by an expression of suspicion. “Call,” she said, pushing some credits into the pot. “Perhaps your information was mistaken? Imperial forces have little interest in children.”

That did not ring true in the Force. So she did know something. Obi-wan sat back in his chair, pretending to think about his hand. He had to approach this carefully. “There were two of them, apparently,” he said, hoping that the duo who’d come for Luke were the usual number. “My employer was certain they wore Imperial cogs, and that they had come for the child specifically.”

“I hope you’re being paid well,” the Captain told him. “Otherwise this job of yours really isn’t worth it.”

“Well enough.”

She shrugged. “Then you won’t mind spreading those credits around some.”

Obi-wan nodded - he’d expected as much. He pulled out the rest of the credits he had just won and dumped them onto the table. The Imp didn’t look impressed, but it must have been enough because she kept talking. 

“I’ve heard about this sort of thing. A special project, managed by the Imperial Inquisitorius.”

“I’m not familiar with that branch of the military,” Obi-wan said. He was on the right path - Bail had called these Force-wielding agents Inquisitors. This confirmed they were part of the Empire’s military structure in some capacity. 

“I don’t know much about them myself, but they have high clearance and a surprising amount of authority,” Quirrin said. “They pass through various Outer Rim sectors on a semi-regular basis, looking for targets for Project Harvester. You won’t have much luck getting your target back from them.”

“Do you have any advice about where to start looking?” 

She snorted. “Nope.”

“Perhaps a home base…?”

“I don’t know where it is, if they even have one. You should be prepared to give your employer the bad news.”

Obi-wan felt along the edges of her mind looking for any evidence of falsehood, but there was none. She was telling him the truth, as much of it as she knew. Force-damn it. It gave him only a little more to go on than he’d had before - the name ‘Project Harvester’. 

He finished the game of sabacc for the sake of good manners, folding early and ceeding the officers his credits. Their eyes lingered on him as he left afterwards, and Obi-wan knew his time here had run out. Something about him had made them suspicious, and his meagre disguise of second hand clothes and a fake name wouldn’t hold up for long. 

It was time to leave. 

\----

**9 BBY - Kestos Minor, Kwymar Sector, Outer Rim Territories**

Imperial channels had been quiet all afternoon, to Ahsoka’s relief. There was none of the chatter or movement from their forces that would suggest they might have become aware of Obi-wan’s arrival, or of their small Rebel presence on the planet. She didn’t know exactly when he would arrive, and the anticipation had set her stomach fluttering. 

“He’ll be here soon enough,” Rex said, trying to reassure her. She gave him a quick smile. 

“I know. It’s just been so long… and the last thing we said to each other was an argument.” Something she’d deeply regretted over all the years since. Obi-wan had refused to help capture Maul on Mandalore, distracted by the incipient battle raging over Coruscant. Out of the heat of the moment Ahsoka could admit his priorities made sense - he couldn’t put the whole Republic at risk to settle a personal vendetta no matter how important it was to him - but it had felt something like a betrayal at the time. 

Even so, Ahsoka had set aside any hurt or blame she felt for Master Kenobi a long time ago. He hadn’t failed her - her expectations had been unreasonable. She’d wished so many times she could go back and redo that last conversation. Say instead how much he meant to her - how much they both did, he and Anakin. She couldn’t have known what would happen. Those last days before the Purge had been like walking the edge of a vibroblade where victory or defeat against the Separatists lay on either side, with no sign at all that there would be a third, much more terrible, option. 

She did her best to shake those thoughts out of her head. Dwelling on the past wasn’t helpful. She was going to see Obi-wan again - that was what mattered. 

Someone knocked on the door of their makeshift safehouse. 

Ahsoka and Rex exchanged looks. “Could be him,” Rex said. His hands stayed planted on the handles of his pistols though. 

“I can’t feel him in the Force,” Ahsoka said, concentrating quickly. That didn’t necessarily mean anything though, even at this distance. She had worked hard to master concealing her own Force presence - Obi-wan wouldn’t have lasted this long without being able to do the same. 

She got up and went to look through the viewing port. The man outside had the upper half of his face concealed by a hood, but she would recognise that beard and that smile anywhere. She let out a deep breath as her legs almost went out from under her so strong and sudden was her relief. 

“It’s him,” she said, and slid the door open. 

“Ahsoka…” Obi-wan said, flipping his hood back. His eyes were fixed on her face, wide and stunned. He looked as though he’d seen a ghost, like he hadn’t quite believed that she was really alive until this moment. Ahsoka understood the feeling, because she felt exactly the same. “Ahsoka, it really is you.”

“Yes,” Ahsoka said, feeling tears starting to run down her cheeks. “It’s me. Stars Obi-wan, it’s been so long!” She threw her arms around him and held on tight. His arms came up haltingly to embrace her - how long had it been since he’d last hugged someone? 

There was no point in trying to control her emotions and she didn’t  _ want _ to release them into the Force. She let the happiness and relief flow through her like a storm, half laughing and half crying and crushing her grand-master to her as though the universe would take him away again if she ever dared to let go. She knew she was being louder in the Force than was wise but she could also feel Obi-wan’s presence reacting and feeling him again was… indescribable. 

There was  _ someone else _ , after so long feeling nothing but empty space where the Jedi had been. 

Eventually she and Obi-wan broke apart. Rex coughed behind them. 

“General Kenobi,” he began to say. The change in Obi-wan was immediate, and as close as they still were in the Force, Ahsoka felt the sharp stab of fear as though it was her own. An image - a memory - flashed across her mind with horrific clarity. 

_ He was dripping wet and aching all over from the long fall, and his head swam with the Force screaming at him. There was pain everywhere, a great flaring and dying light, panic, terror, and none of it made sense. Had there been some kind of coordinated Seperatist attack? Their position here on Utapau should have been secure - where had that cannon blast come from?  _

_ Obi-wan jogged through the tunnels upwards towards the 212th, uncertain and worried about what was happening to his men. He couldn’t hear the sounds of battle, but the twisting sense of wrongness grew ever stronger. Something was deeply concerning and his sense of desperation continued to grow.  _

_ He turned a corner to see familiar white and yellow armour and felt something relax inside him. If the Separatists had resumed their attack these clones would be at the front, not wandering around down here. They must be looking for him. He called out to them as he approached, and as they turned and brought up their blasters it was only the Force screaming at him in warning that sent him into a rolling dodge. The shots hissed overhead, too close. Obi-wan stopped thinking. There wasn’t time to think. Only to react.  _

_ He still had his lightsaber. It was in his hand. Instinct and the Force guided it as the blade batted more blaster bolts away and then sank with slick ease through plasteel armour.  _

_ Bodies collapsed around him. Obi-wan stood still, panting, heart pounding, unable to understand.  _

Ahsoka came to her senses and realised she could still hear the hum of a lit lightsaber. She blinked - Obi-wan was holding his blade out towards Rex, shifting forwards into Soresu guard, eyes wild and his expression twisted with a panicked fear that she barely recognised on him. 

“Wait!” she shouted, stepping quickly to get in between them, hoping perhaps that blocking Obi-wan’s direct view of Rex might snap him out of the memory he’d lost himself in. She risked a glance over her shoulder at Rex, who had his hands out with palms forwards in supplication, clearly lost for words. 

Maybe it was better if he didn’t speak though. Hearing the voice of a clone might make things worse. 

“Obi-wan,” she said, keeping her voice calm. “You’re safe. This isn’t Utapau. You’re on Kestos Minor. It’s been ten years since the end of the Republic. It’s okay. No-one is trying to kill you.”

He blinked, and his eyes started to focus on her. Good. That was good. Ahsoka reached out with the Force, trying to sooth his troubled emotions, trying to let him know that she was there. 

“Ahsoka… You weren’t there…” Obi-wan said quietly. “You were… on Mandalore.”

“That’s right,” she said, nodding. “So if I  _ am  _ here, that means...?”

His guard started to relax just a little. Then his gaze flickered behind her, to Rex, and he went stiff again. “Rex,” he snarled. “Why is he here - Ahsoka, you have to know he’s dangerous, he betrayed us…!”

“No!” Ahsoka said quickly, although that… wasn’t entirely the truth. He hadn’t been able to control himself with the chip active, but did Obi-wan even know about the chips? How could he have? None of them had known. “No, Rex is good, Rex is safe, it’s okay Obi-wan. Nobody here is going to hurt you.”

“General Kenobi,” Rex said hesitantly. “I don’t… I would never willingly betray you or any other Jedi.” His truth rang in the Force and that seemed to be enough to finally drain the last edge of panic. Obi-wan relaxed, inch by inch. 

“I… I apologise,” he said. “But Rex… what happened? Your brothers… the entire 212th tried to kill me. The 501st marched on the Temple. All the clones turned on us. Why? What had we done to them to… to cause that?” 

Ahsoka had to close her eyes and take deep breaths to keep from sobbing. She remembered that time all too well. She had been just as confused, just as heartbroken. She still was, just in a different way, knowing none of the men she’d fought beside had been given a choice. 

“That’s a long story General,” Rex said. “A real unhappy one. You want to sit down, and maybe we can talk about it?”

Obi-wan shut off his lightsaber and hooked it back onto his belt. He dragged one hand over his face, with a sudden deep tiredness. “Yes… Yes, we need to talk about a great many things.”

Rex moved backwards and motioned invitingly towards the various comfortable, if threadbare, chairs scattered around the living space. “Come on then General. Have a seat and I’ll get us something to drink.”

\----

**9 BBY - Arkanis, Arkanis Sector, Outer Rim**

“No running today,” Luke’s guard-droid said, as he moved to begin his morning’s jog. Luke stopped, caution warring with happiness that at least he wouldn’t be stuck staring at boring off-white walls for the next two hours. Or if he was, it would be while doing something different for a change. 

“We will now begin hand to hand combat training,” the droid continued. Luke looked it over nervously. That… sounded potentially painful. 

“Training with you?”

“For now,” it said. A whirring noise started up behind the nearest wall and one of the panels slid outwards and then to the side. Luke caught a glimpse of various interesting looking mechanisms behind it, and as he watched, a heavy synthleather bag hanging from a long pole moved smoothly out towards them. “We will begin with learning how to throw a punch,” the droid continued. 

It was a lot more interesting than running, Luke had to admit. Besides, he liked the idea of being able to fight back against his captors, even if he would only break something if he tried to punch a droid. Surely there would be regular people around at some point, right? Punching a stormtrooper would feel kind of good. 

The droid took him through how to make a proper fist, and where to put his feet, and then had him try out a few blows against the bag. The heavy impact of skin and bone against whatever was inside the bag thumped up along his arm each time, a new sensation that honestly felt almost soothing. It felt like releasing some of this frustration that had been building up inside him over the past… however many days it had been now. They were all so similar in their routine and rhythm that he’d totally lost track at this point. 

The droid gave him a few more pointers, nudging his feet and his shoulders into slightly different positions, then told him to keep going until asked to stop. The repetitive motion had a similar effect to the repetition of running. Luke could lose himself in what his body was doing, and if at first it just freed up his mind to try and solve the problem of the fact that he was still trapped -  _ enslaved _ \- here, it felt more productive than his usual worrying. He could usually tire himself out enough running to stop thinking altogether, but now his hands started to hurt with the punches, and he couldn’t help from wincing with each new blow. It took away some of the strength behind them, because his mind knew it was going to hurt, and the droid noticed. It came over and grabbed one of his wrists, lifting his fist for inspection. 

“Enough for now,” it said. “You must build strength and endurance or risk damaging yourself. This would be counterproductive.” Well obviously it didn’t care about the fact that it was painful. Luke could still be thankful for this small mercy though. 

“We must also improve your flexibility,” the droid told him. “We will begin a series of stretches.” Was it going to demonstrate for him? Droids weren’t exactly known for being flexible, and the idea was pretty funny. Luke managed to stop himself smiling as he thought about it - he didn’t think it would be appreciated. 

“So, no more running then?” he asked cautiously. 

“There will still be running,” the droid corrected him. “Your physical routine will continue to become more developed and varied as your skills and condition improve.” Yes, that had been too much to hope for, Luke supposed. He  _ had _ noticed a difference in himself since starting this. He could run flat out for longer, and it took a lot more to wear him out. 

“You will observe, and you will copy,” the droid said. The lights began to dim, and Luke realised they were about to show him another video. He hadn’t known they had holoprojector equipment set up in here as well as the school-rooms. That was interesting, but not really information he could do anything with right now. 

The projection wasn’t  _ of _ any person in particular, but a generated three-dimensional humanoid form. It began in a loose standing position, so Luke copied it and started to follow it as it began to move. He could feel the burning stretch as he did his best to copy what it was doing, but it wasn’t as easy as the form made it look. He flinched slightly as he felt the droid’s cold touch on him again, offering more corrections. 

This wasn’t comfortable, but at least he could see the point of all this. His other lessons were another matter. 

His two hours were quickly up after that, and after shovelling in his breakfast Luke had to endure something much more irritating - the Imperial school curriculum. He really didn’t see why he  _ needed _ to know all of this stuff about Core World history and politics. Did they expect him to actually have to use this information when - no,  _ if _ , he refused to accept his fate here -  _ if _ he became one of their servants of the Empire? 

The Republic wasn’t even around any more, so who cared about how bad it had been? From what Luke heard, it wasn’t like the Empire was that much less corrupt, whatever they said. Maybe the Empire was better overall than what had come before it, but better wasn’t the same as  _ good _ . If they were good, they would have done something about slavery, about the Hutts and criminals like them. If they were good, Luke wouldn’t be here in the first place. 

He supposed one vaguely curious thing was how often these guys called Jedi came up. Sometimes in Anchorhead people talked about the Jedi, but from the way they made it sound Luke had kinda thought they’d existed centuries ago, maybe more. They were a Core or Midrim thing - the stories about them had never been set on the Outer Rim. So it was surprising that actually they’d been around only ten years ago. 

In the Anchorhead stories, Jedi weren’t exactly heroes. More like forces of nature, something like a sandstorm or a Krayt dragon. You couldn’t resist them and you just had to hope that they were on your side. They were meant to help people, to do good, but they were always outsiders. They didn’t care very much what  _ you _ wanted. They had their own rules, and like the burning heat of the suns their justice generally came with a painful price. 

Uncle Owen had scoffed at those tales, said that it was all a lot of exaggeration. That Jedi were just people, like anyone else. Reading about them in his lessons now, Luke wasn’t sure  _ what _ to think. 

According to the Imperial curriculum - although Luke didn’t remember seeing anything about Jedi on the syllabus he’d been working on back on Tatooine - the Jedi Order had been soldiers, generals, enforcers of the Republic’s corrupt laws. They used a mystical power called the Force that they refused to discuss with those outside their Order, and it made them… terrifying. They could tear through  _ armies _ . There was footage of it - Jedi destroying dozens, hundreds of armed droids as they fought alongside battalions of stormtroopers, seemingly untouchable. The only thing keeping them in check had been that they obeyed the will of the Republic Senate, but given that the Senate back then had apparently been even worse than the Empire, that didn’t mean much. 

Luke hadn’t gotten to the part of his lessons that explained what had happened to them. Why they had all died out with the birth of the Empire. He didn’t understand how that could have happened when they seemed so powerful, so unstoppable. What force had defeated them? 

His curiosity about that was enough to keep him somewhat engaged, even without the threat of the shock collar always in the back of his mind. If only he could be sure how much of any of this was truth, and how much was lies. It couldn’t  _ all _ be false. People were still alive from that time, there were libraries, archives… it would be too obvious. 

One thing the lessons  _ had  _ covered though, and which had stood out all the more because of the situation Luke found himself in, was how the Jedi recruited others to their Order. They stole children. 

The whole reason Luke was here was supposed to be because he had potential. What  _ kind _ of potential? The kind that meant someone could become a Jedi, maybe? 

The thought had fear curling in Luke’s stomach. 

\----

**9 BBY - Kestos Minor, Kwymar Sector, Outer Rim Territories**

Obi-wan sat back, trying to take in everything Rex and Ahsoka had told him. “Chips… inside the heads of every clone,” he said, trying to wrap his mind around it. “How…? How could this have happened?” The weight of it was an uncomfortable ball deep inside him, faintly nauseating. His thoughts returned to the men he had killed during the purge, on Utapau and at the Temple, over and over. Innocent, in truth, of their betrayal. He’d cut them down - but there had been no choice! 

That made it no easier to bear, now that he knew what had really been going on. 

“The order came from the Emperor,” Rex said, scowling. “Order 66. The chips were there from the beginning, from Kamino. This was always part of the plan.”

“A Sith plot…” Obi-wan put his head in his hands, feeling the pulse of the Force around him acknowledging this truth. It was like… pulling back a curtain in a slaughterhouse and finding something even worse beyond. 

“Ahsoka saved me,” Rex continued. “She got the chip out of me, and we ran. I don’t know what happened to the 212th, or to most of the rest of my brothers in the years since then. If the chips just… stayed on that whole time. If it was temporary. I don’t know which is worse.”

Obi-wan didn’t know what to say. 

Ahsoka leaned forwards. “Obi-wan, I saw a little of how you survived in your memories just then. I’m sorry for that - those weren’t for me to know.”

He waved her apology aside. “That wasn’t your fault. I prefer that to discussing it, anyway.” He didn’t think he was strong enough to find the words, even now. 

She hesitated, but pressed on. “Master… what happened to Anakin?”

It was like a physical blow, like a vibroknife piercing his heart. He choked on his own breath, almost a sob. Anakin… How could he tell them? How could he explain what he didn’t understand even now? 

“Anakin is dead,” he said, forcing the words out. “Darth Vader killed him.” 

Ahsoka looked away. Rex let out a muffled curse. 

“I knew that he was gone,” Ahsoka said, after a while. “I just didn’t know how.”

They sat together in silence for some time after that, their sorrow and pain soaking into the Force. It came through him in waves and Obi-wan did his best to release it. He had a lot of practise in doing so at this point. 

“So,” Rex said eventually, shifting in his seat uncomfortably. “Where have you been for all these years General?”

“I think you can call me Obi-wan at this point,” Obi told him, feeling very tired. Hearing himself called General grated, reopening old emotional wounds he’d thought had finally scabbed over. “And I was on Tatooine.”

“Tatooine?” Ahsoka said, nose wrinkling in disgust. “I remember that place. Isn’t it ruled by that Hutt, Jabba? Surely there were safer places in the galaxy? If Jabba found out about you he would have turned you over to the Empire for sure.”

“I had a… very specific reason.” He had to tell her about Luke. Tell them both. Quite apart from the fact that they deserved to know, he was going to need their help to track Luke down and rescue him. He was certain the boy wasn’t dead. Obi-wan had made a loose connection with him in the Force after bringing him to stay with the Lars, a failsafe in case of trouble. It would have broken if Luke died. He took a deep breath. 

“Anakin had a child,” he said. 

Ahsoka’s eyes went wide. “Wait, you know about that too?” she said, and then flushed. Obi-wan could only look at her with deep confusion. 

“How did you come to know?” he asked. 

“Bail told me,” she said. 

“About Luke -”

“About Leia,” she said, at the same time. 

Obi-wan’s astonishment only grew. Bail had told her about  _ Leia _ ? Why? He was so protective, so secretive - he  _ knew  _ how important it was that no-one ever found out about the twins… 

“Leia has a brother?” Ahsoka said, breathless and shocked. 

“Wait, what’s all of this about?” Rex asked, leaning forwards. His eyes flickered between them, obviously lost. “General Skywalker has a kid? Or, kids?”

Obi-wan paused and spent a moment to master his emotions. This was unexpected, but perhaps it would make the conversation easier in some ways. “Yes,” he said. “Anakin has children. Twins. They were born as the Republic fell, and Bail and I made sure they would be safe from the Sith.” He wouldn’t mention Master Yoda, not yet. One revelation at a time. 

“So who was the mother?” Rex asked. “Wait. Let me guess. Senator Amidala.”

“How in the name of the Force did you know that?” Obi-Wan asked. He knew that towards the end of the war his former Padawan had become less discreet about his relationship with Padmé, but he’d thought he at least had enough sense to keep their activities confined to Coruscant. 

“There was a betting pool,” Rex admitted. “The General uh… wasn’t very subtle.” 

Obi-wan sighed, feeling the familiar stab of sorrow and loss. “I understand. Well, yes. After they were born, Bail took Leia to Alderaan and he and Breha adopted her. I took Luke to Tatooine; Anakin’s step-brother lives… lived there.”

Neither of them missed that he had changed to the past tense. “What happened?” Ahsoka asked. 

“I’m not  _ entirely _ sure,” Obi-wan had to admit. “Ahsoka, have you ever encountered Imperial agents using the Dark Side? Not true Sith, but with red lightsabers all the same?”

Ahsoka froze, and he could feel her fear in the Force. “I know them,” she said. “They’re called Inquisitors. I fought one, years ago. I’ve managed not to run into any more since then. You’re saying one of them found Luke?”

“Two of them,” Obi-wan said. “They killed his Aunt and Uncle - I fought one of them and defeated them, but I was too late to stop the other taking Luke. I have no idea where they’ve gone, and the only clue I’ve found so far was something called Project Harvester. It isn’t much to go on.”

“We’ll get him back,” Ahsoka said, with determination. 

“We must,” Obi-wan said. “Otherwise Leia will be the last and only hope for the Jedi.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Luke starts Force training, Obi-wan's search continues, and Ninth Sister makes another appearance.

**9 BBY - Arkanis, Arkanis Sector, Outer Rim**

“So what exactly am I meant to be doing here?” Luke asked, frowning. Opposite him, the droid continued to hold up the datapad with its screen turned away from him. 

“You will tell me what images are displayed here,” it said. “If you fail, there will be pain.”

“How am I meant to do that?” Luke said, with a stab of anger born from fear. So far he’d managed to avoid being shocked again, but the thought of it happening now, of not being _able_ to stop it, made cold sweat prickle on his skin. “I can’t see the screen.”

“You must allow your instincts and your feelings to guide you. Reach out with them, and you will understand.”

“I _don’t_ understand.”

“Then you will have to work it out quickly,” the droid said. It held the datapad up and tapped the controls. “We will begin. What is the image?”

Reach out with his feelings? What did that even mean? Luke’s thoughts whirled, trying to figure out what they wanted from him, but he had no answers and the droid didn’t look like it was going to give him any more clues. “It could be anything!” he said. 

The collar around his throat prickled - it might have just been because he was so hyper-aware of it, but it was almost as though he felt it activating before the pain came. A sharp, crackling shock stabbed down his spine but… it didn’t last as long as that first time. It was just a quick lick of agony and then it was gone again. Luke straightened up, panting. 

“What is the image?” the droid repeated, without emotion. 

“This isn’t fair!” Luke said, though he didn’t know what point there was in protesting. Of course it wasn’t fair. Nothing about this place was fair. 

The droid didn’t react. Luke did his best to focus. His head was spinning. His muscles ached. All he could think about was how afraid he was, because he couldn’t do this, the task was impossible, so he was just going to be shocked over and over and over again until… until what? Until they got tired of him? Was this meant to make some kind of point? Was there a hidden lesson here he was supposed to learn? 

He had hesitated too long. Again, the prickling at his neck, again the arc of agony that left him shivering and nauseous. He fell to his knees as the electricity left his muscles. 

“What do you want from me?” he begged. 

“You have already been told the parameters of the task.”

Use his feelings? His fear? His anger? They were all that he could focus on! Luke squeezed his eyes tightly shut against the tears that were threatening to fall and tried to ‘reach out’, whatever that meant. This place was so cold, so unforgiving, so dark. The world seemed to weigh down on him and his mind beat against that weight with a frantic desperation. There… there _was_ something more to that, wasn’t there? 

Before all this on Tatooine, Uncle Owen had let him tinker with parts out of the vaporators, learning how to repair them. Sometimes he concentrated on what he was doing so hard it felt like he could see every part of the machinery in his mind, like he was connected to them somehow. It seemed so natural he had never mentioned it, but now he wondered if that was what the droid was talking about. If that had been him ‘reaching out’.

The pain came again, but this time Luke could still think through it. The electricity was lighting up something else inside him that wasn’t just his muscles and his nerves. He grabbed for it, that strange and tentative connection, pulling it to him or perhaps pulling himself to it. 

It was like stepping from the heat of Tatooine’s suns into the cool shade of the homestead. The world sharpened around him, coming into focus as he could suddenly feel so much _more_. His eyes were still closed but he could see his guard droid, and the walls, and the datapad, and even more beyond it all. 

“What is the image?” the droid said. 

“A starship,” Luke replied, sure and confident. The answer came as easily as if he had always known it. “A CR90 corvette.”

“Correct. And now?”

“A TIE fighter.”

“Now?”

“A vibroblade. A blaster. A building; a… a skyscraper, I think.” Luke started to relax as his fear began to subside and the echoes of pain drained away - then he nearly panicked as the sharp-edged cool sensation wavered. For a moment he almost lost his connection to this other way of seeing the world, but it came back as he mentally grabbed at it desperately, heart pounding. 

Luke managed to get through the rest of the test without a problem after that, but it was clear that this connection, whatever it was, didn’t like it when he got too calm. When he did there were flashes of… not really sunlight, because it wasn’t happening in the real world exactly, but it _felt_ a bit like that, beams of sudden warmth and blinding light playing over his face. He didn’t know what that meant, what it was exactly, but it was too confusing and it made it harder to see. 

“The task is complete,” the droid said eventually, shutting the datapad down. “You have done well.”

Was that the first time Luke had been told that here? Yeah, it must be. He sat back on his heels and opened his eyes again. He was sweating, and the collar rubbed uncomfortably against his skin. When he reached up to adjust it, the brush of his fingers was painful. Had it burned him? The sensation of comforting chill was still there, but not as intense now. A background hum. 

Was this the Force, he thought with a sudden flash of realisation? The power of the Jedi?

The droid seemed to be done with him for the day. It escorted him back to his room, and Luke stretched out on the bed staring up at the ceiling and thinking. He didn’t know exactly what he’d done back there, but it wasn’t normal. Not something other people could do - his Aunt and Uncle would have talked about it otherwise. What _could_ it be, if not the Force? Which meant he would have been stolen by the Jedi, if he’d been born during the Republic. Now he’d been stolen by the Empire. 

Why hadn’t the droid said more about what this was? Why be so vague? Or was that part of it? Maybe it wasn’t something that could be explained with words, something you _had_ to figure out on your own. 

It was still there, a whisper in the back of his mind. 

Luke reached for it again. It wasn’t as easy now. He stretched out, frustration building as it tried to slip through his fingers and then it connected. He felt it better this time, felt it respond to what he was feeling. It… wanted him to want it? Was that right? He wasn’t sure. The energy all around him was a low thrum through his body. It wrapped around him, drawn to his emotions, almost sticky but not exactly unpleasant. There was something kind of reassuring about it. It made him feel less alone. 

Luke did his best to keep hold of the connection as he went to sleep, heavy and comforting as a second blanket. Even when peace started to take over him as he drifted off, the sensation was still there all around him. No longer inside him, but there all the same. 

He was floating in the darkness of space, amongst a sea of stars. The stars were mostly small and close by, caught in their own slumber. Some of them gave off no light, but he still knew they were there, larger and more powerful than the others. He couldn’t reach out and touch them, but that didn’t matter. He wasn’t the only one. That was enough. 

\----

Luke kept on having the same dream, the one about the stars. He was sure it had to mean something, but he didn’t know what. It wasn’t a bad dream though, not like some of the nightmares that had woken him up crying, the ones that started after he’d been stolen from Tatooine. He tried not to think about it too much. It wasn’t like the droid would know or care about any of it, and there wasn’t anyone else to ask. 

As promised, his physical training continued to get more complicated. Aside from the running and the stretches and the punching bag, Luke was learning how to use weapons now. The first time the droid handed him a blaster his instinct had been to use it on the kriffing thing no matter the consequences, but obviously whoever was running this place had known that was gonna happen. The blaster wasn’t real, and it just shot training bolts. When he fired it just splashed pointlessly over the droid’s outer plating, and then Luke got electrocuted for his troubles. 

So. That had been a thing. He felt pretty foolish about it afterwards. 

It wasn’t just different sorts of blasters - there was a vibroknife that didn’t turn on, and a long wooden staff, and a thin wooden sword, and it all made Luke wonder just exactly what sort of combat they thought he would get into eventually. The alien in the vid hadn’t said, and obviously there was everything with the Force so it wasn’t like they were hoping Luke would turn into an obedient little stormtrooper at the end… 

The Force lessons weren’t happening as often as everything else, but it had still been slotted into his schedule a few times a week, not that the droid ever called the thing he was using ‘the Force’. Luke didn’t have any trouble seeing concealed images anymore - he didn’t even need the pain from the collar to get him going. It was getting easier and easier to touch the energy all around him. All he needed to do was think about how terrible this place was, how much the Empire had taken from him, how much he missed seeing other living beings, and there it was waiting to… comfort him wasn’t the right way to put it. It didn’t take away what he was feeling. It was just there alongside him, echoing the emotions, making him feel like he was okay feeling that way, that maybe one day he could do something about it. 

Today, when the droid led him into the blank-walled little room it didn’t pull out a datapad. Instead there was a bunch of random pieces of plasteel scattered around the floor. “Sit down,” the droid told him, pointing to a clear space in the middle of the scraps. Luke did so, wondering what all this was about. 

“You will attempt to lift these objects,” the droid said, then added as Luke started to move to pick one up, “not physically.”

Luke narrowed his eyes. The lack of any helpful instructions was familiar. This was definitely meant to be a Force-lesson, so… The power he tapped into to see the datapad must let him do other things. That made sense from what he’d read about the abilities of the Jedi. They could do all kinds of things that normal people couldn’t. He just didn’t see how to get from where he was to what they were. 

He let his frustration about all of this fill him up, focused on it and let his other thoughts drift away. His awareness expanded, filling the room. He didn’t reach further - he found it was just distracting and then it was harder to concentrate on what he was meant to be doing. He could sense the bits of plasteel around him, the shape and weight of them, just like he could feel the solid mass of the droid watching him. How was he going to lift them, exactly?

He had spent too long thinking about it. There was a familiar tingle at his neck and then pain. Luke clenched his jaw and tried not to let it distract him. The sensation lit up in his connection to the Force yes, but it was also a lot harder to control. Maybe if it lasted longer rather than just that brief burst he would be able to get a handle on it… Was he really hoping for _more_ pain? Luke shuddered. Oh no, absolutely not. 

_I want this to move_ , he thought, but that didn’t feel like the right approach. This energy didn’t grant _requests_. He was the one who had to do something. 

Could he shape the power that was around him, connected to him? If he was linked to the world and everything in it then surely he _could_ affect it somehow. He reached out for one of the scraps and… focused. It shivered, and he almost lost what he was doing in the shock of his surprise. Refocusing, Luke concentrated and slowly, gradually, the piece rose up into the air. 

“I’ve got it!” he said. Triumph welled inside him - and the Force reacted to that as well. It matched it, sang with it. Magnified it. The piece of plasteel continued to hover, caught in his iron grip. 

“Acceptable,” the droid said. 

“Wait,” Luke said, pride stung. He was more than just _acceptable_. “I can do more.” He reached for the other fragments. Now that he understood how to do it, it was much easier. It wasn’t like plasteel weighed very much. Gradually, concentrating, he raised each of them up too until they surrounded him like a halo of orbiting moons. Luke broke out in a wide grin. The Force was flowing through him, filling him, and he felt _strong_. 

The droid nodded to him. “So you can.”

\----

Watching from behind the one-way transparent surface of the wall, Ninth Sister gave a grunt of interest. Tenth Sister had been right about this scrawny human kid. He _was_ powerful. 

Of course, his midichlorian count would have been enough to tell her that, or simply his presence in the Force. Mostly younglings were a bit of an undifferentiated mess, not feeling particularly present in the Light or the Dark when they arrived on Arkanis. It wasn’t like the Jedi Temple had been, where the whole building was soaked with the Light Side presence of the thousands of Jedi who had lived there for millenia, where the younglings couldn’t help but pick that up and be drawn to that aspect of the Force. No, for these ones it wasn’t until they started training that they began to feel like anything in particular.

Mostly. Not this kid. After Tenth’s report, Ninth Sister had reached out to get a sense of what she meant and found a child already unconsciously rooted in the Light. Unpleasantly so; just brushing against his unreasonably strong Force presence had been genuinely painful. Thankfully that had started to change as the psychological impact of being in Area Null and subject to isolation protocols took its toll. The youngling had been quick to draw on the Dark Side with only minor guidance, and now Ninth was beginning to get a sense of his full potential. 

Yes, the boy had high midichlorians, but midichlorians only meant so much when it came to the Dark Side. It was less forgiving than the Light. To use it, you had to have the right kind of mindset, the right kind of mental strength and willpower. It wouldn’t be the first time a youngling showed a promising count but failed utterly when it came to drawing on their emotions. 

This youngling took to the Dark as though he’d been born to it. The lightness was washing out of him with each passing day, and true strength was replacing it. 

This boy would make an excellent Inquisitor.

\----

**9 BBY - Ord Mantell, Bright Jewel Sector, Mid Rim**

“How long do you imagine it will take them to discover the sabotage?” Obi-wan asked. A week had passed since their successful infiltration of the Ord Mantell deepdock, and it was still shut down for an internal investigation. It wasn’t quite the outcome they’d been hoping for at the time, but every day it remained closed was one in which no repairs were being carried out on Imperial ships. 

“I’m pretty good at slicing these days,” Ahsoka said. “Besides, they won’t have any idea where to start looking, which means they have to go over the whole place top to bottom before they can be sure we only messed with the recalibration systems. That’s going to take a lot longer than just a week.”

“You and Rex don’t have to stay here with me,” he told her. For now they were continuing to keep an eye on things from their temporary accommodation in the Worker’s Quarter on the moon Quantxi, hoping their false identities held up to any potential scrutiny. “It’s risky - if you leave now I can meet you back on Ithor.”

“The whole point of us staying in the first place is to see if they send an Inquisitor,” Ahsoka said, frowning. “I’m not leaving you alone to face one again.”

Obi-wan resisted pointing out that he had managed to defeat the first one perfectly well. He had no way of knowing how representative that man had been of their general level of skill. Besides, he didn’t truthfully want Ahsoka or Rex to leave even if it might be the wiser decision. Having them back in his life had calmed something broken in his soul. The thought of either of them coming to harm when he wasn’t around to protect them sent a diffuse panic racing around his mind.

He knew that this was attachment. He knew it was unwise. He no longer had it in him to care. 

“It is also possible that Darth Vader might come to investigate any report of Jedi activity,” he said, giving voice to what he was really afraid of. 

Ahsoka shook her head. “I’m the only one they caught on camera - my fault for being careless. The only thing the Imps saw was a togruta with two lightsabers. Darth Vader doesn’t bother to hunt down every report of possible Jedi, that’s why he has Inquisitors in the first place.” Or so they were assuming, based on the information available to them. That assumption might come back to bite them, but they had so little to go on. “He’s looking for you now specifically. If there’s nothing there to link you to me, why would he come?”

“If he guesses your identity…”

“I had my hood up - the camera couldn’t have picked up my face,” Ahsoka said. “And I was never the only togrutan Jedi out there.” 

There was a knock against the roof trapdoor, and then Rex pushed it up and open, maneuvering up the ladder with one hand and holding a bag in the other. “I brought food,” he said, waving the bag towards them. 

“Thanks Rex,” Ahsoka said, taking it from him and rooting around inside. “Ooh, nerf buns.” 

“There was some chatter in the diner while I was there,” Rex told them, sitting down on the padded mat they’d spread out over the cold pourstone. “Someone’s expected at the deepdock. Kind of light on the details, which makes me wonder.”

“You think it might be an Inquisitor?” Ahsoka asked. 

Rex shrugged. “Usually local gossips know at least the rank of any visitors. Not for this guy. Apparently he’ll be headed over to the deepdock first, but if he’s here scouting for Jedi he’s going to come to Quantxi after that.”

They would be able to get a good look at him when he did; their accommodation overlooked the main landing pad, which was why they had chosen it in the first place. If it _was_ an Inquisitor they would choose their moment and spring an ambush. It was their best hope of getting the answers they needed. 

“So we wait,” Obi-wan said. 

\----

Three people crouched on the same roof for hours on end would have been highly suspicious, so they took shifts. The shuttle arrived while Rex was up there, and he let out a piercing whistle to get their attention. Obi-wan climbed the ladder quickly, cursing his knees internally. He wasn’t that old! There was no good reason for his knees to be so kriffing unco-operative these days. 

It must come from spending so long on Tatooine. Somehow. 

Rex passed him the electrobinoculars and pointed. “Over there.”

Obi-wan crouched close to the low wall around the roof-top space and brought them up to take a look. A young human man dressed in a familiar black uniform was descending the shuttle ramp in the distance, and it was impossible to miss the hilt of a lightsaber clipped to his belt. He was dressed just the same as the Inquisitor Obi-wan had killed, except that he wore no helmet. His ginger hair was slicked back, longer than Imperial military regulations allowed. As the man turned and spoke to the stormtroopers waiting for him, he caught a glimpse of some kind of small droid clinging to his back, painted the standard matt Imperial black. 

“That’s our target,” Obi-wan said, handing the ‘binocs back. “He will search for our presence in the Force - we shall give him just enough to lure him into our trap.”

Rex gave a sharp nod. “What if he’s not keen on being taken alive?”

It was a definite possibility, as was the fact that getting answers would not be at all easy even if they did capture him. “One thing at a time Captain,” Obi-wan said, and scrambled back down the ladder to join Ahsoka below.

\----

**9 BBY - Arkanis, Arkanis Sector, Outer Rim**

“You are successfully progressing through your training,” his guard-droid said. Luke gave it a suspicious look. “I am now permitted to offer you an opportunity.”

“What sort of opportunity?” he asked.

“You wish to encounter other people,” it said. 

Sudden hope had Luke’s heart in his mouth. “Yes! Yes, of course I do.” He shouldn’t be so obviously excited about it, he knew that, but he’d spoken without thinking and it was too late to take that back. Well, they had to know already how much he wanted to just _see someone else_ , otherwise they wouldn’t be offering it to him. 

“This can be arranged,” the droid said, “if you are able to earn it.”

Now came the sting. “How?” Luke asked. 

“You will be given pain. If you can endure it, then you will get what you want.” 

Luke swallowed. Yeah, that wasn’t a good choice. He knew what the pain was going to be, and he knew he could stand a few hits from the collar, but they never lasted more than a few seconds even if it felt like longer in the moment. How strong would the pain be? How long would it go on for? The droid could just keep shocking him until he couldn’t take it any more and then claim he had failed - there was absolutely no reason to trust anything it might promise him. 

But… he was so, so lonely. He wasn’t sure how much longer he could last like this. He felt like he might actually forget what other people looked like. Trying to get the words out of a suddenly dry mouth, he said, “Alright. I’ll do it.” 

“Very well.”

It came immediately. Luke was already tensed for it, and the electricity coursing through him stiffened his muscles even more. It wasn’t as intense as previous shocks had been, but unlike them it just… kept… on… happening. What had at first been not that much more than a coarse ache gradually worsened - was it being ramped up as this went on? Or did it just feel that way? 

“Do you wish me to stop?” 

Luke shook his head. He could manage this. He was sure that he could. He balled his hands into fists, and tried to breath through it. He reached for the Force, so strong and close around him, and it was so easy to open himself up to it. It didn’t change the pain, but he felt somehow more powerful, more able to bear it.

“Very well,” the droid said. 

The strength of the current coming from the collar was suddenly much, much worse. Luke cried out - his thoughts whited out. All he could feel was the pain. Dimly he was aware that he had collapsed forwards, unable to keep his balance, and that he had started crying. The Force was still there though, pressed tight close to every inch of him, filling him inside and out. He was determined to make it through this - it _would_ help him through this. 

Luke wasn’t sure exactly how long that second stage went on for, but it was long enough for the droid to check back in twice more. Both times he refused to back down. He’d come this far. He… he _would not_ let them have done this to him for nothing. 

Finally it stopped. The twitching in his muscles went on for a bit longer, making his breathing choppy. Metal hands closed around his arms, pulling him to his feet and then holding him steady. “Here,” the droid said, and started to lead him towards one wall. Luke staggered forwards, confused. He didn’t see a door there. Clumsily, he reached out mentally and felt… something. A sense of being watched. Whatever it was, it knew that he was looking. He felt the attention sharpen, and flinched back. 

The droid tapped what seemed to be just another featureless part of the wall, and it beeped and slid inwards. There was another room beyond. Luke went in, and the door closed behind him leaving the droid outside. He almost fell over without it there to keep him upright, but… someone else caught him. A massive hand propped him up, and he followed the arm upwards until he found himself looking at an alien - a Dowutin, he thought. He’d only seen the species once before, passing through Anchorhead.

“Well done,” she said, with a broad grin. Luke blinked up at her, taking in her black uniform marked with Imperial cogs, her helmet with broad red visors cupping her face, and both a cybernetic foot _and_ hand. What had happened to her to cause _that_?

Something about the clothes was familiar. 

“Hey,” he said, realising what it was. “You’re dressed like those slavers that killed my family!” He hadn’t meant to say it out loud. That might be because he was light-headed from not being electrocuted any more. 

“That’s your first comment?” she said. “I guess ‘slavers’ is one way to look at it. That’s not really what we’re about though.”

She didn’t sound angry. Luke relaxed very slightly, and actually looked at the rest of the room. Next to the door he’d come through a big part of the wall was totally see-through from this side, and opposite that there was another large window and another door. He couldn’t quite make out what was beyond it from this angle. 

“Who… who are you?” he asked. 

“I’m called Ninth Sister.”

“That’s not a name.”

“More of a name than you have youngling.”

“Hey!” Luke scowled. He probably ought to be a bit more careful talking back to her than this, but she didn’t look bothered by his attitude. Anyway, she wasn’t a droid. She was someone new, someone he could actually talk to! He was too grateful about that to be careful. “I have a name.”

“No, you don’t,” she said. “Your old name was left behind with your old life. I know you’ve been told that already.” There was a slight edge of warning in her tone now, and Luke wasn’t going to push it. If he _did_ make her angry she might go away and leave him alone again. 

“Keep on doing well in your training, and maybe one day you’ll have a name again,” Ninth Sister said. 

“A name like yours?”

Her grin returned. “Sure.”

“So… am I allowed to ask you questions?” Luke asked. 

“Why not. We have some time.”

“Time before what?”

She gestured at the other window. Luke gathered his strength in aching muscles and managed to stagger over to get a better look. On the other side of the window was a white-walled, plain room like the one he’d just left. Inside was a droid identical to his guard as well as… 

“Zar!” he called out, pressing himself up against the transparent surface. “Zar!”

Ninth Sister snorted. “He can’t hear you.”

Zar looked mostly the same as when Luke had last seen him, during those brief hours in the shuttle and walking through this base. Maybe a bit skinnier, it was hard to tell. He had the same sort of collar around his neck, and although Luke could see that his mouth was moving talking to the droid, he couldn’t hear any words. 

“What’s happening?” he asked. 

“He’s being given the same test as you.”

Luke flinched as Zar suddenly dropped to the ground, his muscles twitching and the fur standing up stiff all over his body, where it wasn’t hidden by the dull grey uniform that was all they’d been given to wear. Zar had to be screaming, but the whole scene was silent and awful. 

Luke’s attention was fixed on his friend, but as he watched helplessly he realised he was getting that feeling of being watched again. It was… something he was sensing through the Force! He was already panicked and angry and scared so it wasn’t hard to grab hold of the Force to try and work out where it was coming from. The sensation solidified as a heavy presence right behind him and he froze. It had to be Ninth Sister. 

“It seems you’re strong in the Dark Side, youngling,” Ninth Sister said. 

On the other side of the wall, Zar relaxed. He was panting, trying to say something. Luke wanted to concentrate on _that_ , but… 

“What’s the Dark Side?”

Ninth Sister laughed quietly. “Oops. I’m getting ahead of things. Well, I suppose you’ve earned something.”

Zar was still talking, the droid answering him. The collar wasn’t shocking him anymore. Luke couldn’t keep his attention in one place. “Is… Did my friend pass the test?” he asked. Did that mean he was going to get to see Zar again properly? Speak to him, maybe even get to hug him? Right at that moment there wasn’t anything he wanted more in the world. 

“He’s not your friend.”

“Of course he is,” Luke said, offended. Okay, maybe they hadn’t known each other for very long, but that didn’t mean they weren’t friends.

Ninth Sister shook her head. “Nobody in this building is your friend kid. Might have been before, but things change. If he was your friend, he would have tried harder to resist the pain.”

“What do you mean?”

Ninth Sister gestured to the scene. The droid was helping Zar up, and escorting him back out of the room. “No!” Luke shouted, throwing himself against the window as though he could break through it somehow. No, they couldn’t take Zar away from him again, not now, not when they’d been so close to seeing each other again…

“He’s not as strong as you are,” Ninth Sister told him. “You were determined to do whatever it took to get what you wanted. He… well. I guess he just didn’t want it enough.” 

Luke subsided, a horrible empty pain settling inside him. She… she was right. He wanted so badly to see another person again, enough to endure the shock collar for _ages_ , and if only Zar had done the same… instead all of that agony was for nothing! 

“You see?” Ninth Sister said. “That betrayal you’re feeling right now - that’s what having friends gets you. You can’t rely on anyone except yourself.”

“I… I don’t think that’s true.” 

“You don’t sound very certain.”

Because he wasn’t. Luke couldn’t find the words to answer her. His friends in Anchorhead, on other moisture farms in the area, they wouldn’t have let him down. He was sure of that. Was it just because he’d known them longer? Maybe Zar… hadn’t actually liked him that much. 

“You asked me a question,” Ninth Sister said, changing the subject. “I did say I was gonna answer it. You’re far enough into your lessons to have started reading about the Jedi, yeah? And the Force?”

Luke nodded, still mostly wrapped up in feeling sick and upset. He did want to know what she meant though. 

“The Force is the energy that connects everything in the galaxy together. It’s made from living things, or from the natural world. Plants, animals, insects, sentient beings, all striving, surviving, being born, dying. Or at least, that’s what we call the Living Force - although I was never that interested in the finer points of theology myself.”

“So that _is_ what I’ve been using?” Luke asked. 

“Yeah. People like you and me, we’re different. We don’t just help to generate the Force, we can actually sense that it’s there and we can use it to do, oh, all sorts of things. But you’d already started to work that out, hadn’t you.” 

Luke wondered how she’d known that. “I guess,” he said. “I couldn’t think of any other reason those slavers came to find me.” 

“Eh, that’s part of our jobs as Inquisitors, to find Force-sensitive younglings like you. It’ll be your job too in the end.”

“I’m not going to go around stealing kids from their families!”

“It’s not stealing - we have a legal right to claim those younglings,” Ninth Sister said. “It’s far too dangerous to leave you untrained.”

Luke doubted that was true, but he didn’t see that arguing the point was going to get him anywhere. She was actually telling him things he wanted to know for now, so he should try and find out as much as possible before she decided to stop. 

“You still haven’t explained what the Dark Side is.”

“There’s different aspects of the Force that someone can draw on. The Jedi used something called the Light Side, but the Light…” She huffed out a deep breath of annoyance. “The Light is limited. It’s fine for some things, but… look, like I said I’m not one for theology or philosophy. I wouldn’t explain it well, and your lessons will cover it eventually. The point is that the Dark Side is a much more powerful aspect so long as you’ve got the willpower to master it. It draws on your emotions, and just by _feeling_ you can make yourself strong. The Light Side needs calm, and emptiness. It lies to you that your feelings don’t matter.”

That… made sense. Luke had already noticed that the Force responded to his emotions. He felt stronger when he tapped into it, and he wanted to learn more. Not for the reasons Ninth Sister probably wanted, so that he could serve the Empire like her, but because he wanted to get _out_. He would need Force skills to do that, he was sure of it. 

“Now, that’s enough for one day,” Ninth Sister said. She opened the door Luke had entered through. “Time’s up. I’m sure we’ll be seeing more of each other later.”

Luke reluctantly left. The sense of Ninth Sister’s presence, which had been so close to his mind, moved away. It felt like a blast-door slamming shut behind him. The droid was waiting outside, and he gave it a baleful glare. How long would he be alone again now?


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Obi-wan and Ahsoka confront a new Inquisitor, and Luke does his best to help a friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The usual content warnings apply for Inquisitor Force training.

**9 BBY - Ord Mantell, Bright Jewel Sector, Mid Rim**

Third Brother listened to the commander giving his report with only half of his attention. The other half was still working through the memory-impressions he had picked up from the terminals on the deepdock. The presence of other Force users at the time the impressions were created always intensified the experience, and psychometry could sometimes be less than literal. 

He knew it wasn’t just the one Jedi here though. The cameras might have picked up the togruta with the twin lightsabers, but Third Brother had seen another cloaked figure standing at her back, guarding her flanks. The memory had been from her point of view and irritatingly he hadn’t been able to see the man’s face under his hood. All he _had_ seen was a flash of a lightsaber hilt revealed as they turned to go. 

The third figure was the one that confused him. The man had a familiar face, one that had been repeated over and over and over around him when Third was still a padawan. A face that turned on him and his former master. A face that tried to kill him. A face he still still saw whenever the Purge Troopers removed their helmets. 

What was a clone doing with two Jedi, working against the Empire? 

This was a puzzle Third Brother intended to solve. He could sense that the Jedi were still in the system - although their reasons for doing so were unclear to him - and he _would_ track them down. There was neither doubt or hesitation in him. He didn’t feel sorry for these last ailing remnants of the old Order. Their time in the galaxy was over, and the Sith ruled now. That was simply how things were, and there was no point in trying to fight it. You could either give in and bow the knee, or you could suffer an eternity of pain before your death. 

Third Brother had chosen to bow, in the end. 

The base commander finished speaking and looked at him expectantly. “The insurgents remain on this moon,” Third Brother told him. “Do not let anyone leave. I will continue my search here - I assure you that I _will_ bring them to justice.” 

“Yes sir. Is there anything else we can do to assist you?”

“Try not to get in my way.”

Third Brother admitted one of his weaknesses was that he didn’t play well with others. He didn’t like being around other people. Their thoughts and feelings grated on his mind, and he had no desire to be personable anymore. Once, being friendly and likeable had been part of survival, something that kept him alive. Now it was a reminder of everything he’d lost. Other people made you weak, and open to exploitation. Just look at everything that had happened between Second Sister and her former Master. 

BeeDee, his droid, was the only help he needed. 

Third Brother left the base and headed out onto the streets of Quantxi. Nervous eyes followed his passage, passers-by shrinking back at the sight of an Imperial uniform. He breathed in their fear, the tight huddled sense of do-not-see-me-do-not-notice-me that emanated from a population under lockdown and scared of what might be done to them. It was a powerful miasma that drew in the Dark Side, and he used it to cast his mental net wide over the area. Where was the trace of Jedi?

There. Third Brother caught the sense of them not far away, burning bright. They were trying to hide themselves, but what might have served to fool one of his less trained siblings was not enough against him. He picked up his pace, pulling the hilt of his saber to his hand, closing the distance. He was moving into the Worker’s Quarter, and towards quieter streets and back alleys. The Jedi must have felt his presence too, as they started to move. Not quickly enough. They wouldn’t escape him. 

Third Brother jinked sideways into an alley almost at a run, his target a sharp and moving beacon in his mind. Deeply immersed into the Dark Side, he had the concentration of a predator focused on prey - he wasn’t paying as much attention as he should to his surroundings. He didn’t sense the ambush coming, sensed nothing amiss at all until a figure dropped down from the building behind him igniting its lightsaber on the way down. 

He whirled round, Dark snarling its warning too late. The figure lunged, blade aimed at his lightsaber hoping to disarm him. Third Brother yanked on the Force, pulling it into himself. The world around him sharpened and slowed, and he dodged sideways in a blur of motion, trying to kick his enemy in the ribs and force them backwards. 

The Jedi took the kick with a grunt, but twisted enough to rob the blow of most of its strength. Third Brother activated his own saber but took a moment before springing to the attack in order to size up the man facing him. Classic Temple tunics belted at the waist and worn with age, equally old but serviceable boots, neat beard and hair, ginger fading to grey… 

_Karabast_. Even if he didn’t look like he had just stepped out of one of the Clone Wars holos, Third Brother would still have recognised Obi-wan Kenobi anywhere. 

This wasn’t good. Kenobi was known as a Sith-slayer for a reason, and even if Third Brother had been confident enough in his ability to take him on, this was Vader’s kill to make, not his. 

Kenobi dropped into a Soresu guard and waited for him to make the first move. Third Brother wasn’t foolish enough to take him up on that. He held his lightsaber at the ready and began to move slowly backwards, heading for the other end of the alley. 

“Going somewhere?” a woman said. The other Jedi stepped out to block off his escape. So this was the togruta - she must have been the one he’d been tracking in the Force. Master Kenobi’s Force presence had been very well concealed. 

“My Master wouldn’t be pleased if I stole his chance to kill Obi-wan Kenobi,” Third Brother replied. On his back, BeeDee shifted his weight and chirped anxiously, not at all pleased by the situation. 

“Oh, you recognise me,” Kenobi said, advancing cautiously with a quick moulinet spin of his saber. “I’m flattered.” 

“Of course I do. Some might call you a war hero. Or a traitor.”

Kenobi raised an eyebrow at that. “Which side would you come down on?”

“It doesn’t really matter now,” Third Brother said, risking looking away from the Jedi long enough to scan the walls penning him in for an escape route. Perhaps… but they would have to be closer. “The Jedi Order is no more. The Sith are all that’s left.”

“The Sith haven’t won yet,” the togrutan Jedi said. She held two lightsaber hilts at the ready, though she hadn’t ignited them yet. Third Brother didn’t intend to underestimate her. She seemed overconfident, but that could be a trap. “If you don’t want to fight us, then you should surrender. We have some questions for you.”

That was interesting. He continued to move slowly towards the togruta. He had a better chance with her than with Master Kenobi. “Ask away. I’m afraid the Inquisitorius doesn’t have a recruitment brochure, but we’re certainly open to interested enquiries.”

Kenobi’s eyes narrowed. It wasn’t just taking offence at the suggestion he might turn to the Dark Side, it was something more, Third could sense it. What was this about? “If you’re being so generous,” he said, clipped Coruscanti accent biting, “then perhaps you would be willing to give us a tour of your base. Or at least tell us its location.”

Why did he want to know? Were they hoping to storm it, all two of them? Not that there was one single location from which the Inquisitorius operated anyway. The younglings were on Arkanis, the main field base was the Fortress on Nur, and of course there was the facility on Mustafar next to Lord Vader’s castle. 

Third Brother had managed to move far enough down the alley to make his move. He darted towards the togruta, the Force powering his leap forwards, bringing his lightsaber up in a wide slash. Her twin blades ignited in a flash of white - white? An unusual colour. She blocked him, but he didn’t let his blade slide into a saber lock. Instead he pushed off in a high Ataru jump, running along the wall above her for a few brief seconds and somersaulting down into the street on the other side. 

“I’m sure Lord Vader would be more than happy to give you a tour sometime!” he shouted behind him as he made a break for it. “You can ask him when he gets here!” 

Now to head back to the landing field and let his Master know that Kenobi had been found. 

\----

Ahsoka didn’t bother to chase the Inquisitor very far. He was faster than she’d expected, and passers-by ducked out of the way of a running man in Imperial black quicker than they did for some random togruta. She looped back round to rejoin Obi-wan, hooking her lightsabers back to her belt and releasing her disappointment to the Force. 

“I’m sorry,” she said once she was back. “I should have been expecting him to pull something like that.”

Obi-wan was frowning, but not at her. “It was something of a long shot anyway,” he said. “I hope Rex has had more luck infiltrating the landing zone to put a tracker on his shuttle.” 

Ahsoka nodded, then looked him over again. “Where did you leave your outer robe?”

Obi-wan sighed, and pointed upwards. “Don’t worry,” he said. “I won’t leave without it.”

“You say that now,” she said, smiling. “Past experience would suggest otherwise.”

After a brief detour to collect the discarded robe, they started to head back to their accommodation. “That Inquisitor seemed less aggressive than the one I faced before,” Ahsoka said, as they walked. 

“Yes… I found him troubling.”

“In what way?”

“I believe that I recognised him.”

Ahsoka was surprised enough to stop moving. “Recognised him? How?”

Obi-wan gave her a worried look. “I’m almost certain that was Master Jaro Tapal’s padawan.”

The realisation settled into her, cold and hard. She couldn’t believe she’d been so oblivious - or perhaps she simply hadn’t _wanted_ to see it. “There’s no way he’s the only one. The other Inquisitors used to be padawans as well.”

“I suspect that is the case,” Obi-wan said, looking just as uncomfortable as she was. “I hadn’t really thought about it before now, but the ones we’ve encountered have been too old to have come to the Empire’s attention since the end of the war. They would have been picked up by the Temple’s testing program before then.”

“They took younglings, padawans, and… turned them into users of the Dark Side.” Ahsoka felt ill. What sort of horrors had those young ones been through? 

“If I had known at the time…” Obi-wan sounded very tired. “There must have been something I could have done.”

“You had to look after Luke and Leia,” Ahsoka reminded him. “This is _not_ your fault. It’s the Emperor’s.” 

“We _have_ to find Luke. I can’t let this happen to him.”

The only hope of them being able to find him any time soon lay with Rex at this point. Unfortunately when they finally got back to their shared home, he was already there waiting for them looking grim. 

“I couldn’t get past the perimeter,” he said. “They had that place locked down tighter than a vac-seal.”

There was a long silence. “What now?” Ahsoka asked. 

“Now…” Obi-wan sighed. “Now we have no choice but to find a way off-world. As the Inquisitor promised, Darth Vader will be here quickly now that he knows I am here.”

None of them were happy with that answer, but there wasn’t anything else to do. They would have to find another way of tracking Luke down.

\----

Vader arrived on the moon of Quantxi above Ord Mantell with fierce, hot anger burning in his veins. Kenobi. Kenobi was here. So close, and finally Vader would have his revenge so many years in the making. The Dark Side roared inside him, around him, pushing him forwards with a vast well of hunger, wanting to purge this bastion of the Light from the galaxy just as much as he did. 

Judging from Third Brother’s report Kenobi was not alone, and although the Inquisitor might not have known their identities his description of them had been detailed enough that Vader had no doubt about who they were. It was more fuel for the fire. Ahsoka was alive as he had always suspected, and although the clone could in theory be any one of thousands Vader was sure that it was Rex. Rex had been with Ahsoka when the Republic fell, and there had been no sign of either of their bodies when he went looking. Just Ahsoka’s discarded lightsabers. 

She had new ones now. White lightsabers. She was no Jedi. 

Ahsoka had abandoned him. Perhaps not during the war, but in the aftermath of it. She should have been happy that the Order was destroyed after everything it had done to her, to both of them. She should have come to find him - surely she had known he was still alive? Their bond had changed, weakened, atrophied now to the point that Vader himself had not been sure it still existed, but then… then she should have been able to feel him. Find him. Instead she had fled and joined Kenobi. 

Had Kenobi told her everything - or at least his own warped version of the truth? Had Kenobi turned her against him, just as he’d done to Padme? 

Vader was here to kill Kenobi, but he would give Ahsoka and Rex a chance. They would see that Kenobi had lied, that the Empire was the answer to every horror of the dead Republic, and they would join him. If they refused - the Dark Side howled like a sandstorm - then they too would die.

\----

In the end Ahsoka wasn’t entirely sure herself how they managed to escape from Vader. That whole period blurred in her memory into a series of images and sensory impressions tainted by fear and the choking weight of the Dark Side. She and Obi-wan felt it the moment Vader arrived, an awful burning black sun in the Force, spreading a cloak of fury across the entire moon. They were planning to run of course; there was too much at stake to take the risk of trying to fight, assuming they even stood a chance against the Sith that had killed Anakin Skywalker. Quantxi was in lockdown, no ships on or off except Imperial vessels, so those were their only option. 

Ahsoka pushed her presence in the Force as still and quiet as possible, and knew Obi-wan was doing the same thing. The stormtroopers spreading out across the city to search for them weren’t so easy to avoid when they couldn’t risk using the Force, but Rex proved he’d lost none of his skill there, taking out isolated troopers with ease to open up their path. They fled through the streets, ducking and weaving through alleyways and over rooftops, at first allowing themselves to be sighted in order to draw Vader away from the landing ground, and then doubling back and increasing their stealth. 

The Force was with them. That was the only explanation Ahsoka could come up with for how they made it. They fought their way through the last remnants of the garrison at the landing ground, exchanging silence for speed, and made for the very same shuttle Vader had arrived on. Then they were in the air, making a break for the outer atmosphere and hyperspace beyond it, feeling the incandescent eruption of Vader’s rage when he learned that they had slipped his net. 

Ahsoka quashed a moment of sympathy for the stormtroopers who would pay the price for letting them escape. They were her enemies, but death at the hands of a Sith Lord was no way to go. Then she leaned back in her seat letting all of the tension and terror wash out of her. 

“Where do we go from here?” she asked. 

“I don’t know,” Obi-wan said, with a note of despair she didn’t like at all.

\----

**8 BBY - Arkanis, Arkanis Sector, Outer Rim**

Ninth Sister wasn’t there every time Luke was offered the test of pain. At first after being disappointed at the last moment and not even getting to meet Zar again properly, Luke had wondered if it was worth it. He’d hesitated for a while after the droid offered, thinking about how terrible it would feel to suffer and suffer and then go into that small room and have to watch Zar or Banee or maybe someone else fail. There had been the Ninth Sister though, and he’d decided talking to _someone_ was enough of a reward even if it wasn’t the one he wanted. She had been there that time, although she hadn’t said much. After that, he didn’t flinch away, and maybe part of that was not wanting to disappoint her. She had seemed to actually care about him even if what she wanted for him wasn’t the same as what Luke wanted. 

So no, she wasn’t always there waiting for him, and that had really hurt the first time it happened, but then not long after that Banee had managed to pass the test on her end. She’d been _so glad_ to see him, and he knew it was real because he could feel it in the Force. They told each other everything that had been happening and found it was pretty similar for them both, the same kind of lessons and training, the same loneliness. They didn’t have long, but now Luke had hope that they would see each other again. 

It was hope that kept him going, through the physical training and the tests on the curriculum and the nights when the desperation for his family and Tatooine and friends was so strong it felt like an animal tearing up his insides and he curled up under the covers and cried himself to sleep. Ninth Sister told him friends were useless and would let you down, but she was wrong. 

Luke kept on feeling that sense of Ninth Sister in the Force, watching him. He thought maybe she’d always been there, except he hadn’t known what to look for before. He was learning to reach out for her, which meant he could work out when she was close by and when she was somewhere else in this big building. Most of the time she felt closed off and guarded, which made her harder to feel, but he could still follow her movements despite that. Other times she pressed so close to his mind that Luke was sure she could see everything going on inside him. 

It was kind of weird and uncomfortable, but he didn’t know how to keep her out. He couldn’t do the same thing back either - he kept running into those sort of walls. Blast doors slamming down. Only, she wasn’t the only presence around. 

Luke was pretty sure he had figured out what the star dream was about. The clue had been when he recognised one of the dark stars as Ninth Sister, because it felt just the same as being near her when he was awake. He wasn’t conscious of what it meant in the dream itself, but when he woke up again he knew that all those bright points were other people. After that, he started to reach out for them while he was awake as well. 

He wasn’t that good at it yet, and it didn’t mean he could do anything more than sense roughly where they were, but it was another reason for him to have hope. 

The pain test didn’t happen all that often, with weeks in between. It was still hard to keep track of time in this place. It never got any easier, but it helped to know that it didn’t last forever and that there was the promise of a reward waiting for him on the other side of it. 

This time when the agony stopped coursing through him and he stumbled through to the room between the walls, it was Zar again waiting for his turn to be shocked. Wearily, Luke leaned against the window and watched him. He didn’t really feel angry anymore that Zar kept failing. It was miserable being in pain, and maybe Zar just didn’t believe that the people in charge meant to keep their promise. Or maybe he really just wasn’t strong enough - he was still _trying_ when he could have maybe refused the test altogether. 

The Force was still wrapped close around him after using it to help with the test, and Luke didn’t think too much of reaching out with it towards Zar. His mind was a bright spot in the other room, a whirl of unhappiness that quickly became nothing but the pain. Luke felt it when Zar tried to call on the Dark Side, but the Force only stirred sluggishly, seeming almost disinterested in what Zar was doing. It wasn’t the rapid obedience it showed Luke, which at this point was almost an eagerness to settle into his skin down to his bones. 

Luke winced at the echoed pain, a phantom of twitching muscles and screaming. This wasn’t… it wasn’t fair! Zar didn’t deserve this, and Luke didn’t like the way sensing someone else’s suffering made the Force around him twitch and curl with interest. He didn’t understand why the Force liked him so much more than Zar. 

Zar was going to fail again. Luke could see what was going on inside his head, sort of. It was just impressions and reflections, but there was a sense of determination wavering and getting ready to buckle under the pressure. Luke suddenly, desperately wanted to help. He wanted Zar to get to see him, to soothe the gaping hunger of loneliness inside both of them. He grabbed at the feeling of pain, clumsy and unsure of what he was doing. 

The ghost sensations were suddenly very much real. Luke clenched his teeth tight as he took the pain into himself, as he spread his self somehow over Zar’s mind like a shield until they were close enough to share. Zar jerked both physically and mentally, startled, and Luke did his best to reassure him. What was he doing? He didn’t know, but whatever it was seemed to be working. 

Luke panted with the strain of managing the pain and still holding on to Zar until finally the droid deemed him worthy. The collar stopped firing. 

“You have passed the test,” the droid said, and Luke heard it with Zar’s ears. 

The droid supported Zar through into the other room, and Luke rocked back and forth on his heels with impatient anticipation. Zar was relieved and confused both, and some part of him knew that something strange was going on in his head. His eyes went very wide when he saw Luke waiting for him. 

“Luke?” he said, “This is… this is real? I’m really not the only one left here?”

Luke grabbed him and hugged him. Zar’s fur was fluffy and smelled of ozone, and little snaps of static came off of it as Luke’s arms brushed against it, but he didn’t mind. “You did it!” he said.

“I don’t know how,” Zar said. “I’m… this feels very strange. I… my head feels weird.” 

“Oh, yeah.” Luke did his best to concentrate and draw away from Zar’s presence. The connection didn’t want to go; the Dark Side pulled away with reluctance. Again Luke got the sense that the Force had its own emotions and desires outside of just mirroring his own - he didn’t think _he_ was the one feeling so selfishly greedy and possessive. Zar was his friend, that didn’t mean he _belonged_ to him. 

_Yours_ , the Dark Side whispered. _He is yours, should be yours. Do not let them take him from you._

Luke made himself let go, shaking that idea away. People weren’t things you could own. 

“Please,” Zar said. “Tell me what’s been happening. I just want to hear someone else’s voice.”

Luke sat them both down on the cold pourstone floor and started to talk. 

\----

Luke dreamed about the deep vacuum of space again that night. The familiar flickers of other minds surrounded him and he relaxed into their presence. There was Ninth Sister, a solid bulwark of dark obsidian. Zar’s bright spark, and Banee’s fire. Others he didn’t know from meeting them in person, but who were always here when he slept. 

The darkness was a sea he swam in, black shadows cloaking him and buoying him up. Somewhere, he heard the hiss of the rain, beating against the glowing life of trees, dampening the undergrowth where insects and microorganisms churned leaf litter into rich mud. Death into life into death again. It soothed him, and Luke let himself just exist in the grasp of the Force.

He couldn’t be lonely here. All he had to do was reach out and touch. Expand himself and take them all in, flickering dreaming feelings pressed close all around. The most comforting ones were the ones that felt like him, alive with potential in the Force, but he settled in against the rest of them too, solid, orderly, military minds. Even Ninth Sister behind her blast shields. 

And if he left dark, sticky fingerprints everywhere he went, Luke didn’t notice that at all. 

\----

**8 BBY - Alderra City, Alderaan, Alderaan Sector, Core Worlds**

“No,” Bail said, glaring at the rotating holo representing Fulcrum’s presence. “Absolutely not.”

“Senator Organa, you must understand…” The voice was distorted by the scrambler, but he could still tell Obi-wan Kenobi apart from Ahsoka Tano. “We’ve been searching for over a year now and we’ve made no progress! I hate it as much as you do - even more so. Yet the fact remains that Luke is gone. I refuse to give up hope entirely but I can’t allow that hope to blind me to the facts.”

“Leia isn’t ready.” Bail had worried about this since learning what had happened to her brother. He knew what the Jedi hoped the twins would do when they were older, the weight of the destiny they were supposed to fulfil. He had known it from the moment he and Breha agreed to take Leia in as their own, but somehow… somehow he’d hoped it would never happen. That their daughter could stay a child for as long as possible. That they could be happy together - as much as was possible under the Empire. 

Leia’s destiny was here on Alderaan. Her duty was to the people of Alderaan, and yes, to the people of the wider galaxy after that, but surely she could fulfil that destiny in the way _she_ chose, as a senator, as a queen, as a Rebel, or yes as a Jedi if she wanted to. The point was that it ought to be _her_ choice. 

“She’s too young,” he said. 

“Hardly too young to start her training,” Fulcrum said, with a hint of exasperation “Rather the opposite, for a Jedi.”

“You promised us it wouldn’t be this way. You said when she was old enough…”

“I know. Bail, I do understand. The Empire has a way of forcing us to break our promises though.”

Bail shut his eyes for a moment, trying to control his fear. “What did you two have in mind?” Once he knew that he could marshal his counterarguments more effectively. 

“There are still worlds in the Outer Rim with a minimal Imperial presence,” Kenobi started, but Bail interrupted almost immediately. 

“No. Even if there’s no other option but to train Leia I refuse to allow you to spirit our daughter away from us into a dangerous and uncertain galaxy.”

“Everywhere in the galaxy is dangerous for her! Even Alderaan. Perhaps especially Alderaan if we tried to train her there.”

Bail bristled. “The people of Alderaan have no love for the Empire. I’ve managed to support the Rebellion for all these years without discovery, and Breha and I have kept Leia safe for this long. We will continue to do so.”

“You can’t be expected to know of all the potential spies in your palace,” Obi-wan said. “Besides, even the most loyal citizen might be tempted by the size of the bounty on _my_ head.”

“I know it might not be safe forever, but Leia deserves to be with her family for as long as that’s possible. If you insist on training her, you will come _here_. If there’s any danger and you need to take Leia and run then so be it. Breha and I will face the consequences, just as we will if the Emperor ever finds out what else we’ve been up to.”

Fulcrum was silent for a while, considering. Bail had no intention of backing down on this though, and Obi-wan must have known that. “Very well,” he said. “We will join you on Alderaan as soon as possible. I… believe me Bail, I do only want what’s best for the galaxy.”

“I know that, old friend,” Bail said, relaxing. “But that doesn’t mean we need to sacrifice the happiness of those we care about to achieve it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't worry, Cal will be back later in this fic and get a lot more screentime than this.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ninth Sister plays Inquisitorial politics, Luke starts training with other students, and a schoolyard fight becomes something much more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content warnings for violence, child abuse, stockholm syndrome stuff, and mind-control/mind wiping.
> 
> Also note the timestamps.

**8 BBY - Arkanis, Arkanis Sector, Outer Rim**

The boy moved fluidly through the steps of the first-form kata, wooden training sword making sharp arcs in the air under the watchful gaze of his guard droid - and of Ninth Sister, concealed behind the walls. He was continuing to live up to his potential, she thought, as much as an eleven-and-a-half-standard youngling could. The Dark Side gathered around him, mostly placid - he wasn’t trying particularly hard - but tendrils of its power twisted around him in time with his movements. His mind was hard and determined, sharp and clear; the boy was able to use the katas as a form of meditation, and had managed this without even having to be taught. 

More evidence that his destiny lay with the Inquisitorius. 

Ninth Sister’s commlink beeped. She frowned down at it, but the comm code was the Grand Inquisitor’s. She couldn’t ignore it. She left the observation room and headed down to her office where she could talk to him in peace; she had a guess about what he might want. 

“Ninth Sister.” His Sith-golden eyes narrowed as his image appeared, some glint of colour visible even through the blue of the holo. “It has been some time since we spoke in person.”

Ninth Sister grunted acknowledgement. She sent in her reports as required, but it was true that she was isolated here on Arkanis. She had the company of other Inquisitors only when they brought new younglings, and that did not happen terribly often. The Inquisitorius had higher standards than the old Jedi Order. There was no point wasting their time with weak sensitives, the kind who would likely have ended up in the AgriCorp before. Yes, they did nudge those younglings towards the Imperial Academies or otherwise made sure they were monitored as they grew up, but they did not share the gift and opportunity of the Dark Side lightly. 

“How are you finding Arkanis?” the Grand Inquisitor asked. “I understand many of our number believe the work there beneath them.”

“I don’t think of it like that,” Ninth Sister said with a shrug. “Inquisitors die. They need to be replaced. The things the Inquisitorius does are important - we need to be the best that we can be. The most worthy of the Dark Side.” 

“Some might regard the younglings as their future competition.”

Ninth grinned. “Sure. But competition is important. If we’re not always striving, then we’re no better than the lazy, complacent Jedi.” It was a part of Sith doctrine that she’d never had any problem with. It made sense to her, although the padawan she’d once been hadn’t understood until she’d been made to see. That drive to the eternal, impossible goal of perfection was the reason the Sith had survived all these centuries, the reason they now controlled the galaxy, and the reason no Jedi ever wanted to try and take a Sith on one-on-one. 

The Grand Inquisitor nodded. It was hard to tell if he was satisfied with her answer. His expressions didn’t give the game away, and she couldn’t sense his emotions when he wasn’t physically close by. 

“Is that why you informed Sixth Brother there was no need for him to take over your posting when your time on Arkanis was meant to finish?”

Ah, this was what she’d been expecting him to get to eventually. “I’d have expected him to be thanking me. Like you said, not everyone likes training younglings.”

“This is the first time I recall _you_ being so interested in doing so. Why is that?”

“I guess I’ve just found a love for it.” Ninth Sister was pretty sure he could tell that was a blatant lie. 

“No,” the Grand Inquisitor said. “You have never shown this kind of interest before. Something has changed.” He studied her intently. Ninth Sister hoped her expression wasn’t giving anything away, but she knew he was perceptive. “Perhaps it has something to do with a youngling with a particularly high midichlorian count?” 

So he did know. Ninth hadn’t mentioned _that_ in her reports but perhaps the medical droid was programmed to automatically forward notice of high counts back to Mustafar. Well, she couldn’t keep hiding the truth, better to be blunt and the Grand Inquisitor would do with that whatever he saw fit. 

“That might have something to do with it,” she said. “The kid’s interesting. I want to see him make the most of the opportunity we’re giving him. I don’t want us to lose a powerful Inquisitor to an accident of training.”

“And any potential benefit to yourself in mentoring such a pawn would be entirely incidental?” The Grand Inquisitor scoffed and waved off her attempt to answer before she could get any words out. “Very well. I will not interfere with your little plan. I trust you to know the sensible limits of your ambition - and if you overstep, it is not I you will answer to.”

No. That would be Darth Vader, or even worse, Darth Sidious. 

“Thank you Grand Inquisitor,” she said. He cut the call and left her alone with her thoughts. 

This wasn’t about using the youngling for her own ends… or it was, but not entirely. Honestly, Ninth Sister didn’t care much about her fellow Inquisitors, content on bettering her own skills, and she had no plans to advance herself by killing them, unlike some. She linked her ambition to the strength of the Inquisitorius as a whole, not just to her own strength. The youngling would help with that - and like an old-fashioned set of blades they would strike off each other and become all the sharper for it. 

\----

“You’re taking me somewhere new,” Luke said. After so many months he had learned to recognise the apparently identical, maze-like corridors and rooms of the building that was his prison. The turbolift had taken slightly longer to reach its destination than it was supposed to.

The guard droid didn’t bother to look at him as it replied. “That is correct.”

“I don’t suppose you’re going to tell me why?” 

The droid said nothing, which was just typical. Luke’s flicker of irritation had the Force swirling reassuringly around him, and he drew on its strength. Whatever was waiting for him, he was ready to face it. He followed the droid to another practically identical door, and watched as the droid unlocked it. He needed to get his hands on the code cylinder inside the droid’s arm if he ever wanted to get out of here, but for all the training he was sure he couldn’t take the droid on physically. Perhaps with the Force, but that wouldn’t stop the droid fighting back. 

It wouldn’t care about hurting him, even if it probably wouldn’t kill him. Luke didn’t think it would go well though. He had to wait until he was stronger. 

The door opened up on a large room, as long and wide as a mid-sized freighter. Luke wasn’t able to pay much attention to it right away though, because there were _other people_ inside. He spotted Zar and Banee immediately, but there were also some other kids who looked older; a couple of humans, a rodian, a dug and a gran. Standing in the centre of the room with her hands on her hips was Ninth Sister. 

“Alright!” she said. “That’s our last student here.”

The droid left and the door hissed shut behind it. Luke approached the group cautiously, not wanting to seem too eager. He reached out to try and get an idea of their intentions; Ninth Sister was impossible to read as usual, but he caught echoes of his own suspicion as well as mistrust and dislike from the older students. At least Zar and Banee were both pleased to see him. 

“Welcome to lightsaber training,” Ninth Sister said. “For the newcomers, let me demonstrate.” She took something from her belt - it looked like a half-circle of metal protecting a central grip. Ninth Sister pressed a button and a bright red blade that looked like it really was made out of light appeared with a hiss. The weapon crackled as she moved it slowly through the air. Luke found himself abruptly returning to the day he was stolen from Tatooine, to the memory of home and seeing Uncle Owen and Aunt Beru killed in front of him. Both of the slavers - Inquisitors - had weapons just like this one. 

Luke tried not to flinch, feeling sick.

“This is a lightsaber,” Ninth Sister told them. “The weapon of Inquisitors - and of the Jedi. Once you’re ready to take up your purpose defending the Empire from the legacy of the Jedi Order, this will be your weapon as well. You’ve already had some basic training, but these lessons will show you how to use it properly.”

Luke sensed little flickers of jealousy-greed-yearning from the older children. He remembered how horribly effective those lightsabers had been. Armed with something like that, surely they wouldn't be able to keep him as a slave any more!

Ninth Sister tapped at something on her armoured wrist; a panel in the wall slid open and revealed a rack of training swords like the one Luke was used to using. “Everyone, get prepped,” she said. “You better not forget your warm-up stretches either - I’ve got no patience for short-cuts.” 

Luke did as he was told, choosing one that felt right in his hand, and started to loosen up. He ended up standing near Zar and Banee, and he took the time to study the other students. The oldest ones were probably the human boy and the Rodian girl. The dug girl, gran boy and other human girl were maybe about the same age, and they had also grouped up a bit. Maybe they’d all been brought to this place together, like Luke, Zar and Banee? 

Force, it was nice to see some more people! They didn’t look particularly friendly, but then Ninth Sister was watching and Luke knew what she would say about the idea of making friends. 

“Alright,” Ninth Sister said, once they were done with stretches. “Form up.” She paired them off older with younger. “Basic attacks first, nothing fancy.” 

Luke wasn’t sure if he missed the signal to start or if the human boy he was facing was just trying to take him off guard, but either way he had to jerk his sword up to block the blow coming towards his face. His wrists vibrated with the force of it, and he took a few quick steps backwards to get some space. His opponent continued to press in, but Luke could see now how the attacks fit into the katas he’d been practising over and over. He used his momentary panic to grab the Dark Side and pull it to him, letting it replace uncertainty with strength and resolve. His body started to do the work after that, falling into the pattern of muscle memory. 

The boy scowled, but kept to the dance of the kata. He was stronger than Luke was and taller obviously, maybe in his mid-teens, but with the Force flowing through him Luke found he could match that strength and reach without being overwhelmed by it. The other boy was using the Force as well, but not to make his attacks any more powerful than they would naturally be. Maybe he didn’t want to kark Ninth Sister off by being too hard on a younger student. 

“Break!” Ninth Sister called, and Luke’s opponent backed off, bringing his sword up across his face and chest in some kind of salute briefly. Luke copied the movement, then spared some attention for the rest of the room. Ninth Sister was pacing between them, nodding in satisfaction. “Serviceable enough,” she said. “This group.” She gestured to the younger half of the room. “We’ll be working on some new katas. You others, let’s see how you do against each other.” 

Luke wanted to watch the older students fight, see how much further they were ahead of him and how much more there was to learn, but he had to concentrate on what Ninth Sister was demonstrating for them. He wasn’t about to mess this up. 

\----

**7 BBY - Arkanis, Arkanis Sector, Outer Rim Territories**

As much as Luke enjoyed being around the other younglings for lightsaber training that enjoyment was limited by the fact they weren’t allowed to talk to one another. Yes he’d tried, whispering to Zar really quietly in the hope Ninth Sister wouldn’t overhear, but perhaps the Force told her what her ears might not. He was rewarded with a sharp shock from his collar and a warning glare. Nor was that the only time the collars were used. 

Ninth Sister had very high expectations. She would show them a kata several times and then set them to repeating it - if they didn’t have the basic form down after a few tries then she would punish them to prompt their memory, either with physical blows or using the collar. Luke hated the feeling of electricity at this point, but at least the collar didn’t do damage that lingered. When Ninth Sister hit him the bruises lingered for days, blue-black shading into purple and yellow and finally fading. And Luke was good at this, he wasn’t punished often. Some of the others, even the older kids, took a lot more ‘correction’. 

Luke didn’t enjoy watching other people being hurt. It made him feel sick and sad inside, and churned up the Dark Side in a confusing sort of way. He got the idea it expected him to like seeing suffering. Sometimes when everyone in the whole room was scared and hurting and the Dark Side felt at its strongest he could hear it whispering to him. _If they are in pain, you are safe. If they suffer, all the better for you. Taste their terror. Draw strength from them and be glad._

He couldn’t do that though, not even if it wanted him to. Everyone here was a child! They didn’t deserve what was happening to them, even if Ninth Sister said it was for their own good. She and the Force seemed to be in agreement that enduring and learning from punishment was the only way to get better and more skilled, and maybe that was partly true. Luke wasn’t sure. He felt like there ought to be a better way, but what did he know? He was only twelve. That didn’t mean he had to like it. 

The other physical lessons, the ones he did alone with the droid, got harder as well. The jogging changed into obstacle courses where the whole room rearranged itself and he had to jump up and over ledges, climb up walls, and swing across deep gaps that would break something for sure if he fell in. The day’s end found him sore and aching most times, but the pain of taxed muscles was more soothing than the lingering pain after punishment. It made the Dark Side cool and calm so that it crawled into him to lie alongside his bones purring until he fell asleep. 

The curriculum… well, that was more of the same. Some of it was stuff Luke didn’t mind learning, like mathematics and navigation and languages, although even there he noticed the questions and examples had an Imperial slant. It took him a while to realise, but for example all the literature reading he was assigned was written by humans, mostly from Core worlds. If there was anything by aliens it was rare, and then the analysis part was all about how flawed the work was. Luke hadn’t really interacted with many alien species on Tatooine - most of his friends were kids from moisture farms which tended to be human-owned near Anchorhead - but it didn’t seem likely that every single one of them were worse at writing than humans. 

Maybe it was just that humans didn’t _get_ alien literature. If the planets they came from were different, and the way they lived was different, perhaps the themes they wrote about were stuff that didn’t matter or didn’t make sense to humans? 

He wanted to suggest that to the droid during one of the tests, but he didn’t think they’d accept that answer. He didn’t want to get electrocuted for being wrong about it, so he kept the idea to himself. 

Luke wondered if he was getting this version of the curriculum because he was human, or if all the students here had the same material. Maybe the dug girl was getting to read dug literature? It would be nice to be able to ask them and find out, but it just wasn’t allowed.

That was so frustrating! Would making friends really be such a bad idea? 

_Yes_ , the Dark Side whispered. _They cannot be trusted. Not yet. Not until you are powerful enough to control them_. Luke brushed it off. That wasn’t what friends were for. He didn’t want to control anyone. If only he could get the Force to understand that!

\----

**6 BBY - Arkanis, Arkanis Sector, Outer Rim Territories**

Luke put the training saber back in its rack, wincing as his movements pulled at skin tight and red from light burns. These things weren’t real lightsabers and they couldn’t do the sort of damage those were capable of, but that didn’t mean they were safe. Not by a long shot. He had managed to avoid being seriously hurt by them so far, but others weren't as lucky. Zar had a nasty scar on the side of his snout now, and Banee nearly lost a finger from an attempt at a disarming move. Patches of skin at various places on Luke’s body were shiny smooth from minor burns, but that was true of everyone. 

He ran a finger absent-minded along the place where his collar touched his neck. The flesh there was roughened and slightly leathery, the effect of all that electricity going through it all the time. Enduring pain to get the reward of seeing his friends wasn’t necessary anymore, but that didn’t mean they had stopped using the collars that way. Now it was being able to put up with constant, low-level pain and still fighting despite it. Or perhaps, because of it. With the Dark Side it was sometimes hard to tell.

Luke sighed as he left the training hall. Since last Empire Day - what would have been his thirteenth birthday if anyone here cared about things like that - he was allowed to walk around Area Null on his own, within limits. It wasn’t as exciting as he might have hoped. Most of the doors were still locked, and there wasn’t anywhere to go except his bedroom or to whatever was on his schedule. 

Banee caught his eye in the corridor outside and gave him a slow nod. Luke signalled back with a quick tap of his hand against his thigh. There was _one_ benefit to being able to roam around; an opportunity to talk to his friends again. They couldn’t meet up for very long - their schedules were tight and if they were late getting somewhere there would be questions. That was alright. Luke would take every little stolen moment he could get. 

“Are you okay Banee?” Luke asked, once the three of them had converged in their usual side corridor. “Ninth Sister hit you extra hard today.”

Banee touched the lump on her cheek gingerly. “It’s not so bad,” she said. “I used to get worse than this before coming here.”

Zar bared his fangs. “We’ll get our revenge one day.” 

Luke was less sure about that - or even that he wanted revenge against Ninth Sister specifically. The way she treated them… it wasn’t personal. When she spoke about strength through pain, the Force sang with her honesty - she believed in it and followed that doctrine herself. No, if there was anyone Luke wanted to hurt, it was the person who’d come up with this whole program in the first place. 

“One day,” Banee said. “At least here we’re valuable slaves. We’re better treated that most.”

That was true as well. They weren’t being worked to the bone in menial labour, they got enough to eat, they had the luxury of privacy, they were going to school even if it was the Imperial curriculum… Banee hadn’t even known how to read or write before coming here! 

“I had another look at the turbolift yesterday,” Luke said. “I managed to block the cameras long enough to pop the control panel off and look inside. I think it’s possible to override it, but there might be security I don’t know about. Getting a code chip out of a droid would be a better option.”

“Do you think we’re good enough to take on a droid yet?” Banee asked. 

“All of us working together?” Zar said. “Of course.”

“I don’t know…” Luke cut off, feeling a sudden shiver in the Force. A sense of danger coming their way. 

“What is it?” Banee asked.

“We need to go,” Luke said, starting to usher them away from what he was feeling. Only… there was another presence the other way. They were surrounded. “I think we’re in trouble.”

“You certainly are.” 

Luke turned and saw the oldest of the students standing behind them. The boy’s face was twisted in a wicked smile. “This little gathering is against the rules. I wonder what kind of reward Ninth Sister will give me for uncovering your rebellion.”

Calling it a rebellion was going a bit far. Luke stood up straight, adrenaline spiking. He tried not to feel afraid, but reached for anger instead. There had to be some way out of this. 

From the other side of the corridor, the rodian girl stepped out to block off their escape. Luke sensed the same smug victory from both their minds and it made his blood boil. 

“You won’t be able to say anything if we knock out all your teeth,” Zar snarled, dropping into a combat stance. Luke copied him. He didn’t see any other option at this point. 

“As if you could,” the human said, and charged them. Aggression flared and the Dark Side followed, but Luke was drawing the Force to himself as well. He stepped between them and tried a quick punch just below the ribs - the other boy deflected it and then they were brawling. Luke lost himself in the quick, sharp thrill of the Dark Side, letting it direct him with a predator’s instinct for violence. 

Unfortunately for him, he only had a youngling’s body, and several years less combat training than his opponent. He didn’t know how long it took, surfing the edge of the Dark outside of his sense of time, but the boy flipped him over his hip and slammed his head into the wall. Stars went off behind Luke’s eyes and his sense of the Force seemed to ring like a bell being struck. He dropped to his hands and knees and tried to get up, but everything was swimming and he couldn’t quite tell what was going on. 

A boot hit him in the ribs and had him tumbling to the floor again. Someone grabbed what they could of his regulation-short hair and lifted his head up to see the other half of the fight. 

Zar was on the floor clutching his arm. The ugly step in the middle of the limb made it obvious that it was broken. The rodian had Banee in a chokehold, managing to keep it up despite her vicious struggling. 

“I don’t imagine Ninth Sister will care if we kill her early,” the boy said in Luke’s ear. “Although it won’t be as satisfying as doing it in a proper duel.” 

Luke had thought he was angry already. That was nothing compared to what rose up inside him now, a roaring torrent of rage that felt like it would split his skin apart. _My friends! Mine! You don’t get to touch them,_ he thought - or perhaps it was the Force. In this moment the two felt like one and the same. The maelstrom finally could not be contained - it burst out of him in a whirlwind, the Dark falling over them all as thick and choking as a Tatooine sandstorm. His enemies went flying, pushed back half the length of the corridor. 

Luke stood up. He felt like he was on fire. He moved, and the tempest moved with him. It was burning in his heart, in his bones, hot and fierce behind his eyes. 

“What the kriff was that?” the rodian groaned, several meters away. She pushed herself upright and then went pale. Luke reached out as she started to scramble away from him and the Force threw its claws around her like a krayt. He felt her heart fluttering fear-fast against those invisible bonds as he dragged her back towards him. On the other side the human was trying to run as well - Luke did the same to him. 

_Prey_ , the Dark Side crooned. _Your prey. They touched what was not theirs. They dared to challenge you. To harm you. To go against your will. They will suffer, they will learn, and they will die._

“Luke!” Zar’s voice cut through the blank rage of his thoughts. It was joyful, almost laughing, his surprise and happiness a flare of something… different in the Force. Still the Dark Side, still pleasure in vengeance, but… “Luke, I have no idea what you’re doing, but this is amazing! _You’re_ amazing!”

The Dark Side within Luke purred at the praise, some of its fierce chaos settling down. Luke found he could think again, and as he stared at the two teenagers suspended in the air in front of him, clutching at their throats as they choked on nothing, he realised that he was the one doing this. 

He dropped them, taking a few steps back in sheer shock. The Force grumbled, but didn’t try to fight him. 

He could have killed them. He _would_ have killed them, if Zar hadn’t inadvertently snapped him out of it. They had intended to kill Banee, and probably him and Zar after that, so… did he really feel bad about that? 

“Well then?” the human boy said, getting to his knees and rubbing at his throat, voice hoarse and strained. “Are you going to finish the job?” He was terrified, Luke could feel it, but oddly fatalistic as well. Some part of him was almost… welcoming the idea. He liked that even less. 

He needed space. He needed time to think. He needed… 

The Force made everything bright and sharp and clear. He could sense each other mind in this corridor with him and the swirl of emotions within them in all their colours and flavours, just as if they were his own, linked and bound together. They buffeted him with how loud they were and he couldn’t concentrate, he couldn’t think… 

_Sleep,_ Luke said, pushing it into each of those minds and feeling them go still. Friends and enemies both collapsed limp on the floor. 

Luke breathed, and tried to get ahold of himself. 

The Dark Side hovered, waiting, expectant. Eager to see what he would do next. Luke wanted to let go of it, push it away, but he didn’t know how. It felt like too much a part of him. He jerked into motion, starting to pace in the hope that it would settle his racing thoughts, feeling the aches in his body from the fight he had briefly been able to forget about. What should he do? What _could_ he do? What would fix all of this? 

It would all be so much simpler if the two older teens could just forget about everything they had done and seen here. 

Luke stopped, the idea taking root. Was it even possible? 

He still felt deeply connected to the now-sleeping minds around him. As though there were pathways linking them together, easy to move along. If he had been able to reach in and make them sleep, would making them forget really be all that much harder? He wouldn’t know unless he tried, and if it worked… 

If it didn’t work, what was the worst that would happen? Ninth Sister would find out about this, but would that really be so bad? Maybe she would be pleased? Lifting people with the Force wasn't that different to lifting other objects, and choking them seemed like the kind of violence that fit the Dark. Although... Ninth Sister would find out he’d been meeting with his friends, and he knew she would be angry about _that_. 

Luke crouched down next to the boy and felt for his presence specifically. He felt around the edges of him, his self, what he was. _You don’t remember this_ , he thought, pushing the idea forcefully into the boy’s brain. _You’ll forget it all. You never tried to hurt me or my friends. You don’t know we’ve been meeting up. You don’t want to hurt us._ He felt something fighting against him, but with the cold dread of Ninth Sister’s potential punishment to fuel him Luke kept on bearing down with the same ideas until he felt that resistance buckle and break. Below was something soft and pliable, and Luke felt his words sink in. 

Relaxing ever so slightly - it had worked! - Luke moved on to do the same to the rodian girl, pleased that with her for some reason the resistance felt less. Then he left the pair to wake up on their own, and shook Zar and Banee out of their stupor. 

“What did you do?” Banee whispered, her voice fierce and slightly scared. 

“I’m not even sure about that myself,” Luke confessed. “I think it’ll be okay now though. If it isn’t… then it isn’t.” And there was nothing more they could do about it. “We need to hurry back to our rooms though. They’ll be expecting us to get there soon.”

“I need to go to the infirmary,” Zar said, cradling his broken arm. “I… I guess I have to tell them what happened.”

“Not all of it,” Luke said. “Say that you were alone when you were attacked. Those two just wanted to hurt you.”

“But they’ll just tell Ninth Sister the truth,” Zar said, confused. 

“Maybe. Maybe not.” That didn’t help Zar look any less confused, but he nodded anyway. 

They split up quickly after that, hoping to stagger their arrivals and not look too suspicious. Luke risked a glance back at the still-sleeping pair. He really hoped he’d done the right thing.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Luke learns the full consequences of his actions and continues to do his best to survive Area Null.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content warnings for child death (of side character), general treachery, manipulation, and attempted poisoning.

**6 BBY - Arkanis, Arkanis Sector, Outer Rim Territories**

Luke spent the next few days simmering in low-grade worry, waiting for the blow to come, for the moment Ninth Sister or his guard droid would take him aside and confront him about what he’d done. When it didn’t happen - when it _kept on_ not happening - he very gradually started to relax. Maybe it had worked. Maybe the other kids had forgotten. Maybe Ninth Sister would never find out. 

On the other hand maybe they were waiting so that he started to become complacent, so that when he was punished it would be all the worse. 

Eventually it came around to lightsaber practise once again. Although he usually looked forward to this, Luke’s stomach churned with anxious nausea the whole morning. He would see the older students again for the first time and maybe then they might remember…

When he arrived, neither of the pair was there yet. Zar was - his arm was wrapped up in a splint, and he held it in close to his chest. It didn’t seem fair that he was expected to fight with only one hand free. Most of the katas needed a two hand grip. Would Ninth Sister punish him for something he couldn’t control? 

Luke collected his training saber and began to warm up, keeping an eye on the door. When the human boy walked in, their gaze briefly met but there was no reaction on the boy’s face. Calling on the Force Luke reached out to his mind, finding that odd sense of connection and being linked was still there. There was no sense of anger or fear, just a general unhappiness and dislike that didn’t seem out of the ordinary. The relief was immediate. It seemed to have worked!

Luke went through several katas at Ninth Sister’s instruction, trying to keep his mind on what he was doing even though his attention kept slipping to Zar. Zar’s jaw was clenched, and it didn’t take much for Luke to sense his anger and frustration. Ninth Sister must have sensed it too, because she paused them all. 

“Something the matter youngling?” she asked. 

“No,” Zar said, baring his fangs. “Just my arm.”

“Perhaps you think I should be going easy on you?” Ninth Sister said. “Your enemies won’t. If you can’t fight injured, then you’re going to die.”

Luke supposed she had a point, but was this really the best way of learning it? 

Once the katas were done the students were paired up again to duel. Luke found himself facing the dug girl, who was an interesting challenge simply because of her anatomy. She was athletic and nimble and never quite where you expected her to be. Zar would be dueling the human boy, which wasn’t going to go well. Luke hoped he didn’t end up with another scar, but he honestly couldn’t see how Zar would manage. The Dark Side stirred in time with the surge of protectiveness that welled up inside him. 

“Begin,” Ninth Sister said, and then Luke was too busy to focus on anything but his own fight. He knew he was getting a lot better, and with the Dark Side filling him he found he could feel what was going to happen almost before it happened, meeting and blocking each one of the older student’s attacks. That didn’t mean it was easy, or that he could do it without a lot of concentration. 

“Hey!” Ninth Sister’s angry shout had them all freezing in place, unsure just who she was talking to. Luke looked around and saw her striding towards Zar and the human boy. Zar had his training saber at the boy’s throat, and looked just as confused about that fact as everyone else. The boy was staring at him blankly, his own saber still held in guard position, unmoving. 

“What is fragging wrong with you?” Ninth Sister demanded, grabbing the boy by the shoulder and shaking him hard. Her anger was tinged with a hint of uncertainty. “Did you not hear me order you to begin?”

The boy blinked up at her. “Ninth Sister… I don’t know.” He sounded honestly lost. 

Ninth Sister looked at him more closely. There was a curious look in her eyes that had Luke suddenly on edge. “Walk me through what’s just been happening,” she said. 

“The younger students were doing katas with you,” he said. “You ordered us to pair up. Then we… started?” He sounded suddenly less sure about that. His eyes moved to Zar and skittered away. “I… but I’m not meant to?”

“Not meant to what?”

“I don’t want to hurt them…” the boy said quietly. Luke felt it echo inside his mind and realised all of a sudden why it was familiar. It was exactly what he had told the boy to do, the cadence of his words and all. The phrase he had pressed into his mind. 

“Don’t fight this,” Ninth Sister said, and one of her massive hands cupped the side of his head. Still watching in the Force, Luke felt her presence filtering into his mind. He had an impression of searching intent, and he felt her picking through his thoughts and feelings and _self_ on a deeper level than the surface skimming Luke was doing at the same moment. Whatever she was seeing, she didn’t like it. She’d already been frowning, and that expression just deepened. 

There was a little tug at the string tying the boy and Luke together, and Luke pulled back into himself hurriedly. Ninth Sister’s eyes flicked over towards him and he did his best to look confused and innocent. He wasn’t sure if she bought it. 

Then her mental presence withdrew back into herself once more. She let go of the boy. “What a waste,” she said. 

“What… what is?” he asked her. There was still something off about him. A blankness to his mind that Luke really didn’t like. 

“What’s been done to you isn’t something we can fix,” Ninth Sister said, and dropped her hand to her belt. Lifting her lightsaber was a small, casual motion, and the boy didn’t even have time to make a sound before the red blade turned on, stabbing in through his neck and exiting at the base of his skull. The weight of his body collapsing pulled him off the blade, carving flesh and bone in a faintly smoking wreck. 

Luke tried not to throw up. It didn’t help that the Dark Side pulsed with energy at the moment of death - or perhaps it did help? He didn’t have time to pick through the confusing mess of emotions he was feeling right now. 

That… what exactly had he done? And why did it mean Ninth Sister had to _kill_ …? 

Ninth Sister turned casually away from the corpse and tapped something at her wrist. A door slid open and a droid appeared to drag the body away. 

“I guess you get to sit this one out,” she said to Zar. “The rest of you, back to work.”

\----

Luke was expecting to get called to see Ninth Sister at some point after that, but it didn’t make him any less tense and afraid when it actually happened. He leaned on the Dark Side for strength and hoped it would be enough. 

His guard droid led him through the building to another new area, and let him through a door into what turned out to be a sparsely decorated office. The Ninth Sister was sitting behind the desk. She put down the padd she’d been holding when he came in, and gestured towards the other chair. Luke sat down nervously. 

“So much guilt,” Ninth Sister said, grinning. “Someone might think you’d done something wrong.”

Luke tried to get a sense of her emotions, but yet again he could make out nothing behind those mental blast doors. She didn’t _look_ angry, which was something. He tried to figure out what to say. If she knew everything, then he should admit it rather than be caught lying. If she only knew some of it, or only suspected, then telling the truth would just get him into trouble. 

After a few moments of agonising silence, Ninth Sister leaned forwards and said, “Someone had messed around in that youngling’s brain and I know it was you. What I’m interested in is what you _thought_ you were doing.”

That did make things easier. Luke struggled to find an explanation. “I’m not… exactly sure. I… I made him go to sleep. And then I wanted him to stop trying to hurt me or my friends.” 

“That’s lacking in details.”

Luke winced slightly. Yeah, he didn’t imagine he was going to be able to talk around exactly why he’d been so eager to force the older boy to do anything in the first place. “He confronted me in the corridors,” he said. 

“Just you? Or perhaps this will explain the bothan’s recent injury as well.”

“Me and Z… and my friends.” Luke managed to stop himself before calling Zar and Banee by their names. Bad enough he had to admit he’d been spending time with them. Names were absolutely forbidden. “It was the three of us. He was going to tell you what we’d been doing so… we got into a fight. He hurt us. I… I wanted him to stop.”

“So you used the Force to knock him out?” 

Luke hadn’t mentioned the rodian girl yet and he didn’t want to. She hadn’t acted oddly during the sparring, so… maybe he hadn’t hurt her as badly as he apparently had the boy. If Ninth Sister knew about her though, she might just kill her anyway. Luke didn’t want to be responsible for that. “I… I was really angry,” he said. “Once he was out, I thought the only way we would get away with it was if he didn’t remember running into us. So I… I felt for his mind and I pushed him to forget us, I told him he didn’t want to hurt us anymore…” 

“Might have been kinder just to kill him then and there,” Ninth Sister said. 

Luke felt ill. “What do you mean?”

Ninth Sister sat back in her chair and assessed him. Luke wasn’t sure what she was looking for. “That boy had some rudimentary shielding, and he was strong-willed at that. It’s impressive that you managed to overwhelm him mentally. You did a lot of damage in the process though.”

Luke couldn’t meet her gaze. “Oh.”

Ninth Sister snorted. “No need to look so despondent! You did well!”

“But… you killed him!”

“No,” Ninth Sister said. “You did that. You just did it the slow way. It’s not a big deal - weeding out the weak is part of the Inquisitorius training programme. You’re more powerful than he was. More worthy of the Dark Side. He was in your way, he was a threat, and you dealt with that threat. No-one ever said you had to do your killing purely with your own hands. Maneuvering someone else into doing your killing for you is just as valid.”

“That’s not what I was trying to do,” Luke protested. 

Ninth Sister shrugged. “If you did this to someone outside of these walls it might not have resulted in their death, but they for sure wouldn’t have been happy about it. Psychologically they would have been a wreck. I’m gonna have to teach you shielding early and how to mind-trick someone properly I can see.”

“I could just… not do it again?”

“And throw away a valuable weapon in your arsenal? That’s not happening.”

“Did… did Jedi do that to people?” Luke had asked the droid for some specific reading about the old Order in the past few days, trying to work out for himself what he had done. There had been rumours about Jedi influencing the ‘weak-minded’, whatever that meant, but not a lot of firm evidence in the materials he currently had access to. 

“Well they didn’t generally go about intentionally breaking people’s minds, if that’s what you’re asking,” Ninth Sister said. “But they don’t call it the Jedi Mind-trick for nothing. The Jedi Order thought they were better than everyone else, and they had no problem making people do things they didn’t want to do. It’s not a Light side ability or anything, but it takes a degree of finesse that can be easier with the Light.” 

Her words rang with truth in the Force. More evidence, if Luke had needed any, that the Jedi were really not the good guys. Had anyone with a lick of power in the galaxy ever actually had the good of other people at heart? The Republic hadn’t. The Empire certainly didn’t. The Jedi were deadly enforcers of corrupt politicians that stole children and mind-controlled people. _Like you just did_ , a nasty voice in the back of his head reminded him. The Inquisitors were slavers, but he guessed he could kind of see their point about making sure the Jedi really were gone for good. 

“So,” Ninth Sister said. “Extra lessons. It’ll be fun!”

Luke could already tell from her expression that it wouldn’t be.

\----

Shielding lessons were just as much hard work as Luke had expected. Ninth Sister told him there wasn’t any one way to do it and that different methods worked for different people, so they spent some time trying out different things. The idea was to create a kind of mental barrier, which explained the heavy blast shields locking away her own mind. Luke experimented with that, but he couldn’t get them to stay steady and strong when he imagined solid walls - they just crumbled away. They eventually arrived at a sort of flexible series of barriers that layered on top of one another - Luke visualised them something like the roiling winds of Tatooine’s sandstorms, abrasive and painful for someone to brush against them from outside. It seemed to work, but some part of him felt like there should be another option. There was something… not quite right. A feeling of emptiness waiting for something to click into place that hadn’t, an expectant silence in the Dark. 

Luke spent a fair amount of time thinking about it, but he couldn’t work out what was wrong. 

The process was difficult and uncomfortable a lot of the time, particularly when Ninth Sister tested the strength of his shields by battering through them. At least with the sandstorm it was painful for her to do so, as well as hurting Luke. 

“You can hardly expect to keep me out entirely at your stage,” she told him. “That strength will come with time.” Luke sensed this was the truth, but that didn’t make having her in her head any easier. Sometimes Luke tried to get his own back by trying to read Ninth Sister’s mind, but he couldn’t get through those strong walls. She just looked at him with amusement, let him tire himself out, then mentally batted him aside. 

The other part of his mental training was even less pleasant. The first time Ninth Sister brought a stormtrooper in and told Luke to go into his head he wasn’t sure who was more alarmed, him or the trooper. He tried to refuse, but that had never been an option. Ninth Sister wouldn’t hesitate to punish him, and she didn’t care about sacrificing a few soldiers for what she saw as the greater good of Luke’s training. 

So Luke obeyed. He felt out the limits of the man’s mind as gently as he possibly could, and he kept on doing it as many times as Ninth Sister thought he needed to. He knew what he was learning from the experience was important. He could start to see the difference between an unshielded mind like this and a partly shielded one like the boy’s, as well as how the Force acted like a weight on the scales of the thoughts nestled within. It could turn the course of a decision, distract, fool the senses… It was so much easier with this stormtrooper and even though Luke could feel him fighting it, he never needed to push so hard that he did damage. 

As his knowledge grew, so did his understanding of just what he had done and his guilt with it. Luke promised himself that he wasn’t ever going to do that again. He wouldn’t let himself. 

\----

Some weeks later, Luke, Zar and Banee were given a new privilege, one he suspected the older students had already had. Instead of being given his meals by the droid in between his usual lessons, he was instead escorted to an actual dining hall, and they all got to eat _together_. Of course actual conversation wasn’t allowed, although snarled insults and almost-fights were. The same miasma of wary suspicion that filled the room during lightsaber practise was here as well, but it was still more contact, more of an opportunity to check that his friends were okay. Silent company was far better than no company at all. 

Luke wondered if there was any other way they could figure out to communicate. The small system of tapping hands and significant looks could only go so far. He knew some species spoke only through sign language, and that some humans used types of sign language as well, so perhaps they could learn that? Although it would be pretty obvious what they were doing, and they were still being watched. 

He had a vague thought that perhaps there was a way to use the Force… but that would surely involve touching their minds in some way and he knew now just how much damage he could do accidentally messing around with someone’s brain. He wasn’t about to try that with either of his friends until his training with Ninth Sister was _much_ further along. 

For a while after that, things settled back down into a normal routine. Nothing about being here was ever comfortable or easy, but Luke understood what was expected of him, and there was nothing making him particularly anxious. He continued to make progress in mastering the mental disciplines Ninth Sister wanted him to learn.

Naturally it couldn’t stay like that. 

The first sign of something odd was when Banee wasn’t at saber practise. Luke wasn’t the only one to notice - it could hardly be missed. The other students burned with the same curiosity, but none of them dared actually ask where she was. Luke was good enough now at the katas that he didn’t really have to think about them - as he let his body’s muscle-memory do the work he dropped into the Force and cast his mind outwards. He knew what Banee felt like - he knew how to find her. 

It didn’t take long. She was somewhere above them - Luke could feel her frustration and anger burning into the Dark Side like thick smoke. She was in pain, but nothing she couldn’t handle. He sensed her determination not to give in - give in to what, he wondered? 

He didn’t think he could find out any more just now. He felt a bit better that she wasn’t significantly injured or in danger, enough that he could relax and focus again on what he was supposed to be doing. Even so, part of his mind stayed with her all through the lesson and beyond, feeling for any signs of change. 

Even after Luke fell asleep, he searched for Banee’s presence in his dreams. It was easy to find her amongst all the other stars. So few of them still shed light, just the youngest, weakest ones that weren’t even here in the tower but somewhere else on the larger military base. The night sky, the scattered constellations of deep space, grew ever darker. Those other minds were black holes, or twisting nebulae, felt only by their heat or chill or some other sense than sight. There was something tying them all together though. A faint web reaching out to every one and linking them. A web Luke could touch and follow, a web he was dimly aware that he was at the heart of. He felt like he would be able to follow it across a whole planet - across a whole star system if it ever stretched that far. 

He was looking for Banee. She was a banked fire, embers glowing, and a quiet churning fear tainted her sleep. Luke tried to see what was causing it, but the source was something too abstract for him to easily understand. Very gently, he slid in and out of her dreams, careful to disturb nothing and influence nothing, but all he saw was vague shapes and images. 

The next day she was back again at lunch, although she’d missed breakfast. She looked tired, and when Luke sat down next to her with his bowl of nutrient paste he nudged her leg beneath the table with his own, giving her a concerned look. Banee’s jaw clenched, and she shook her head. Not something she even wanted to talk about then, assuming they could find the time to meet in the corridors sometime later. Zar joined them, and raised his eyebrows questioningly. Luke shrugged. 

Banee seemed troubled, but not seriously hurt. If she wanted to, she knew Luke was there and would listen to anything she had to say. He wouldn’t push, and although he could look deeper into her mind than he had during the night he wasn’t going to. She deserved her privacy. 

The mystery continued to gnaw away at him though - at least until the day after that when things suddenly got a lot clearer. At breakfast a scuffle broke out between the human girl and the rodian - something about the rodian trying to trip the human up and make her spill her food. The droid passing out their bowls didn’t bother to try and break it up, and it wasn’t like anyone else was going to step in. Luke watched until the human finally backed off, and went back to his own food. He was just about to dig in when something in the Force stopped him. It was only a slight shiver, a quiet sense of danger and warning, but as he examined it more closely it was obvious that it was coming from the bowl of nutrient paste in front of him. He frowned at it. It didn’t _look_ odd. When he sniffed it, it smelled just like it usually did which was of nothing in particular. 

The Force was being very clear though that eating it would not be a good idea. 

Luke stood up and went over to the droid. “There’s something wrong with this,” he said. 

The droid was impassive. “It is the same as all the other bowls,” it said. “You will not be given another one.”

Luke hadn’t _really_ thought that would work, but it was worth a try. He looked around the room, noticing he was now the new centre of attention, and made a decision. If he refused to eat and went hungry he might look weak in front of the other students and more importantly Ninth Sister. He could try and force someone to swap bowls with him, but although he was sure he could do it, that meant hurting someone, which he didn’t want to do for all that the Dark Side was urging him on. There was however a third option. 

“I wasn’t asking,” he told the droid, and reached for the Force. He remembered every moment of misery and pain these droids had put him through, every moment he had wanted deeply to hurt and destroy them, and he let the Dark Side well up inside him with a roar of vast and powerful rage. He didn’t give the droid a chance to activate his shock collar. He grasped for every part of it, a drawn-out moment of sharp perception where the wires and hydraulics and chips were all spread out before him in his mind, and he yanked them apart as hard as he could. 

Metal screamed. The droid burst apart in front of him, a hovering explosion of scraps and parts that remained suspended for a moment in Luke’s mental grasp before he let them fall to the floor. Then he reached over to the nutrient dispenser and poured himself a new bowl, before turning to wander casually back to his table and sit back down. 

The Dark Side purred, a comforting weight inside him, the warm satisfaction of vengeance and vindication. Luke felt… good. 

Most of the students were watching him with fear and a sick, poisonous jealousy colouring the Force around them. Zar’s gaze was more one of awe and that same kind of excitement that Luke had sensed from him when he’d done something similar to their attackers. That memory took some of the pleasure out of the moment. He brushed mentally across the minds of his friends, more for reassurance than anything else, and felt something off about Banee. 

She was afraid too. Afraid and… guilty? 

Attention caught, Luke pushed a little deeper. Yes, Banee did feel guilty, the sickening kind that ate you up from the inside, and she was desperately not looking at him, terrified that he would know how weak she’d been, how she had agreed for her own sake to betray him and now he would find out and take her apart like he’d taken apart that droid… 

Luke jerked back out of Banee’s mind. His heart pounded in his chest. Banee flinched slightly, a quick jerk of pain, but she didn’t give the kind of reaction that would suggest she knew just how deeply Luke had been looking inside her head. He was certain he hadn’t hurt her but… 

But she had been the one to put something in his food. The image had been a brief flash across the surface of her thoughts, drawn there by her worry. It had been while he was distracted by the brief fight - just reaching over and sprinkling some sort of light dust over it. 

Betrayal bit at him, bringing anger with it. Luke’s hand clenched tight around his spoon, but he forced himself not to look up at her, not yet. He didn’t understand, which made it worse. They were friends - or he’d thought they were! Why would she do this? It didn’t make any sense.

It made too _little_ sense. Where would Banee have gotten her hands on a poison of some kind in the first place? Only from Ninth Sister, surely. Which meant it probably wouldn’t have _killed_ him, because Ninth Sister thought he had too much promise to want him dead - uness she’d been confident he would detect its presence just like he actually had. Was this a test from her? And if so, who exactly was she testing? 

The bitter stab of rage cooled slightly, although the Dark Side still fed it, still rushed hot and ready for action through his veins. It wanted him to lash out, to _demand_ the answers he had every right to… but Luke wasn’t going to do that. Banee deserved at least _some_ benefit of the doubt! 

It seemed more likely anyway that Ninth Sister had given the poison to Banee and told her what to do with it, rather than Banee herself going and asking for something to harm Luke. 

_Are you sure about that,_ the Dark Side whispered. _You are so much more powerful than any of them. More worthy. Why wouldn’t they be jealous? Why wouldn’t they sneak around behind your back, betray you, weaken you to save their own pathetic skins?_

No. Luke shook the thoughts out of his head. He didn’t believe any of that. 

Banee hadn’t been angry that her plan had failed. She hadn’t been hating him. She was guilty, because she’d done something she didn’t want to do. She had been thinking that she was weak for agreeing, that she was doing this to save herself… which suggested she hadn’t been given much of a choice. Luke’s immediately thought of all the other tests, all the times this place used pain for punishment and instruction. This had to be why Banee hadn’t been around during their last training lesson. Why she looked so tired when she did show up. 

It would be so easy to be angry at her, but that anger would be misplaced. 

Ninth Sister and the Inquisitor training programme were the ones responsible for this. It might not achieve anything, but Luke knew he had to confront Ninth Sister about this. At least then he might understand what she was trying to achieve.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Luke and Ninth Sister talk Sith philosophy, Luke gets in some 'quality' meditation, and we see some old friends again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content warnings for discussion of suicide, slavery, and a somewhat warped worldview.

**6 BBY - Arkanis, Arkanis Sector, Outer Rim Territories**

Ninth Sister actually laughed out loud when he asked the question. “Isn’t it obvious?” she said. 

Luke had been thinking about it some more in the time before he saw Ninth Sister again for more training. “This is about not having friends,” he said. “You want us to betray each other.”

“And didn’t your so-called friend make that choice?” Ninth Sister asked. “Didn’t she try to poison you?”

Luke glared at her. “She would never have done it if you didn’t _force_ her to!” 

“Force.” Ninth Sister hummed. “That’s an interesting word. Force. Can people be _forced_ to do something, or is there always a choice? Even if it’s not easy, even if it’s painful.”

“I…” Luke thought about it. It wasn’t as though he hadn’t resisted pain before, as though they all hadn’t resisted it. That had been different though. That was about outlasting it, or knowing that you were trading pain for something you wanted. He imagined it, pain that would just keep on going, maybe forever, and the only way to stop it was to give in and do something you didn’t want to do, something you hated. “I don’t know what answer you want from me.”

Ninth Sister gestured as though to say ‘go on’. She wanted him to try. 

“The Dark Side… it’s about strength,” Luke started, feeling his way through the problem. “It’s having the willpower to get what you want, to _make_ the Force obey you.” Although he had never had any trouble with that. The Force had never really resisted him, unless you counted when it wanted him to enjoy people hurting and suffering and he refused. “So… then there should always be a choice.” That sounded both right… and not right at the same time. 

“But why would you want us to believe that?” he asked. “If we have a choice, then I could just… refuse to ever do anything you or anyone else says! If you want us to be servants of the Empire at the end of all of this… you don’t want us to have a choice about that!”

“You’re half-way right,” Ninth Sister said. “We haven’t discussed the Sith properly yet, have we.”

“No,” Luke said. The name wasn’t familiar, but it had a weight to it that… rippled in the Force. 

“You, me, Inquisitors like me, we use the Dark Side but we aren’t Sith. Sith are something… _more_.”

“More how?”

“There are only two Sith, ever. One Master, the apex of the Dark Side, representing the pinnacle of power and strength, and the Apprentice, who represents constant ambition and the eternal search for perfection. The Apprentice must always strive to supplant the Master, and it is in this striving that the Sith as a whole grow stronger. That striving… it is part of what all of us must do. The Dark Side is not about being complacent. It isn’t about peacefulness, or taking the easy way. It’s about trying and learning and growing and fighting.”

Luke shivered slightly. As Ninth Sister spoke, the Force itself seemed to listen to her words - it grew thick and cold and _attentive_ around them. “I don’t understand what that has to do with choice,” he confessed. 

“In theory, a true Dark Side user should always have a choice,” Ninth Sister said. “There should always be the option to sacrifice upon the altar of _what you want_. Whether you sacrifice your body, your pain, your morals, those around you, those you care for, your life itself… if you want something badly enough there is nothing that you will not give up to get it. But that’s an ideal. Reality… well. There’s not that many people stubborn enough to go through with it.”

“So… you want me to think my friend was just too weak to resist you?” Luke said, the rumble of anger at the injustice of it all returning. “She made the wrong choice?”

Ninth Sister shrugged. “It’s like your example. The aim of all this is for you to join the ranks of the Inquisitorius and serve the Empire. Hopefully we’re convincing you that’s the right thing to do anyway, so you’re actually enthusiastic about doing it, but y’know the choice at the end is going to be service or death. No-one says you can’t choose death. If the idea of helping keep the galaxy safe from the influence of the Jedi and their kind is just too terrible to you, if you really do prefer to be dead than to be an Inquisitor… Sith Hells, you’ve had that choice all along! If you were really that principled, or willful, you could have starved yourself, or strangled yourself, or given me no choice but to kill you, or any of a dozen ways out of the situation you’re in.”

Luke looked away. He felt like he’d been punched in the gut. He couldn’t find anything to say. She was right. That was how slavery worked in the first place - the threat of pain or death kept you in line - that and the hope of escaping one day and being free again. There _was_ that immediate choice though. To accept the consequences of running, of refusing. An ultimate defiance. And it was true that most people didn’t go down that route. They kept on living, because they knew how much worse their lives could get if they didn’t obey, or… or because they thought that one day things would get better. 

Wasn’t that what he’d been hoping this whole time? That he would find the strength to break out, to defeat his captors, to go and live a life for himself somewhere far away?

Was that hope lying to him? Was it blinding him to his real options, to the choice he was really making every day? 

_Yes,_ the Dark Side whispered. _Hope is a lie that keeps you in chains. Only through me, only through strength and power and will can those chains be broken._

Eventually he gathered his thoughts enough to speak again. 

“So maybe that kind of choice is an… an ideal that most people can’t live up to. But then if my friend didn’t have a choice about doing what you wanted, then how can you tell me she betrayed me! Don’t you need to be able to choose to betray someone for it to count?”

Ninth Sister sighed in annoyance. “The _point_ is that almost everyone is going to care more about themselves than they care about you. Given a choice between their own safety and comfort, and you - even your _life_ \- they’re going to choose themselves. It’s only not betrayal because you could never really trust them in the first place. Friends - the concept of friendship - is a lie. It isn’t real, it _can’t_ be real, because of the way people work.”

“Someone doesn’t need to be willing to die for me in order to be my friend!” Luke said. “Maybe we all get something out of being together! Supporting each other, enjoying each other’s company!”

Ninth Sister did not look at all convinced, but she also didn’t seem like she cared to press the point any further right now. “Well, I guess you can keep believing that for now. You’ll see differently in the end, I’m pretty confident about that.”

“Why do you care so much?” Luke asked. “Why is having friends such a big deal?”

Another big sigh. “Well kid, that’d be because it’s more likely than not that they’re gonna die here.”

Luke’s instant reaction was denial, a mental _no_ that shuddered in the Force. Yet when he thought about it for more than a few moments that denial morphed into a heavy, nauseous mass inside of him. Perhaps he had already known, or guessed, at this but been unwilling to see it. The boy Ninth Sister had killed. The way that same boy had spoken about killing Banee. The constant pressure to be worthy. 

No wonder the older students hated him. He succeeded at the cost of their lives.

“Why?” he asked. “Why does it have to be that way?”

“Because it’s the way of the Dark Side,” Ninth Sister said. “There’s only so many Inquisitors, and only so much space for more. The weak fail, and their deaths strengthen those who survive - it’s only natural.”

“I’m not going to kill people I care about,” Luke said. His certainty was durasteel inside him. 

“Then they’re likely to kill you,” Ninth Sister said. “That’s what all this is meant to prove to you. Your life or theirs. Their life or yours. It’s obvious what they’re going to pick, so it’s obvious what _you_ have to pick.” 

“And what if I’m strong enough for all of us?” Luke said, baring his teeth at her, not even certain himself what he meant by that. He felt that same wrathful protectiveness that had come over him when Zar and Banee had been threatened before. 

Ninth Sister gave him a wary look. He wondered what she saw, when she gazed at him. “You’re strong - I know that,” she said. “When you’re properly trained, probably stronger than me. Of course if you think you’re gonna buck the system, bring it all down, it’s not me you’ll have to kill to do it. That’d be the Grand Inquisitor, and the Sith Lords after him. Don’t throw your life away like that.”

Luke grasped onto that titbit of information. The name ‘Grand Inquisitor’ was self-explanatory, but… “Just who are these Sith Lords?” 

“The Apprentice is Darth Vader,” Ninth Sister said. “The Master… that’s the Emperor of course.”

It made a horrible amount of sense. Of course the person who controlled the galaxy would also be the undisputed master of the Dark Side of the Force. If he was the one setting Imperial policy though it meant he was also responsible for an untold amount of suffering, so… that didn’t really make him want to serve the Empire _more_. 

“How do you even become a Sith Lord?”

Ninth Sister laughed. “Getting ambitious, youngling? Nothing wrong with that, but y’know it usually involves killing people - something you’ve already said you’re squeamish about. Nothing changes without blood being shed.”

“There’s a big difference between killing bad people and killing someone I care about!” Luke said. 

“How bad do they have to be to ‘deserve’ death?” Ninth Sister asked him. “Killed someone themselves? Or maybe just fragged over their mind, hmm?”

Luke looked away, some of the fire going out of him. 

“Death isn’t deserved,” Ninth Sister said. “Death just is. Bad things happen. People are complicated, and they hurt others, and they always think they’re justified. There’s no point pretending there’s some kind of objective morality to it all. Do what you have to do to achieve your aims, but don’t pretend any of it is because you’re a _good person_.”

“But what if what I want is to protect people?”

“Then figure out the most efficient way to do that. I promise you, you’re most likely to be able to protect people when you’re alive, and the only way you’re going to _stay_ alive is serving the Empire. Make the sacrifices you need to make now, in order to get the power to do what you need to later on.”

“Sacrifices…” Luke said. “My friends aren’t sacrifices.”

“The word sacrifice literally means giving up something you cherish,” Ninth Sister said, rolling her eyes. “Anyway, since you’re still so concerned about your _friends_ you should know you’re going to betray them just as they’ve betrayed you.”

“What? No I’m not!”

Again Ninth Sister sighed. Luke got the sense she was growing bored of this conversation. “Sure you are. Just like the twi’lek did to you. You’re not foolish or stubborn enough to give your life up over something as minor as this.”

“So that’s the choice? Do something to betray my friends or you kill me?”

“I won’t kill you. Starvation will do that.” She stood up and put a heavy hand on his shoulder. “Now is as good a time as any to start.” A click of controls at her wrist and the collar around Luke’s neck started to buzz sending a prickling rush of pain into his body. He winced slightly - it wasn’t enough to be debilitating, but it was still deeply unpleasant. 

“Let me escort you back to your room,” Ninth Sister said. “You won’t be leaving again until you make the right choice. The pain and the hunger will persuade you eventually.”

“Maybe I’ll surprise you,” Luke said through gritted teeth. 

“Since that’ll mean you die, I really hope you don’t.”

\----

Luke quickly lost track of time after being shut up in his room. The collar continued to burn its low-level pain through him. He paced around the small space for a while trying to distract himself from it, then did some push ups and sit ups to try and work off some nervous energy. It maybe wasn’t the smartest idea to burn calories when he knew he wasn’t going to be fed any time soon, but what was the alternative? He was used to twice-daily heavy exercise at this point, and the break in routine was just another thing putting him on edge. 

He started to feel the first pangs of hunger after a while, and he went through to the bathroom to gulp down water from the sink hoping that would help. It did, a little, but not enough. He caught sight of his reflection in the mirror when he straightened up and winced. He was sweaty from the combination of exercise and pain, tense and drawn around the eyes. Urgh. Not a good look. 

Tilting his head up he examined the shock collar. A dull light flashed on it - a sign that it was activated. He tried touching it and an extra tingle of static fizzed into his fingertips making him jerk his hand back reflexively. There wasn’t much point in trying to mess with it - he’d made the attempt in the past, and the metal was too smooth with nowhere for him to get a grip and pry it open to see its internals. 

He’d never tried with the Force. The idea struck him suddenly, and he took the time to actually think about it. Taking the droid apart hadn’t been that hard when riding the wave of the Dark Side, so surely this would be the same? Only… He glanced up towards the ceiling where he _knew_ there were security devices monitoring him. Whoever watched those feeds would notice, and then Ninth Sister would come back with a new one. Maybe decide on some other, worse method of inflicting pain and breaking him into the betrayal she wanted. 

Luke went to lie down on the bed, his muscles aching from head to toe. Even when not in use they still twitched at the current crackling through them, over and over. Luke’s head swam as he stared upwards. How many meals had he missed? How many hours had passed? There was nothing to do here except exercise and think. Would he even be able to sleep when he got tired? Or would the pain keep him out of proper rest?

That was the point wasn’t it. All these ways of wearing him down, and all the time to contemplate the choice he was making. To question himself. 

Luke groaned. He was already partly grounded in the Dark Side - he was always touching it these days even while he slept - and now he drew on it more deeply. He looped his hunger and pain into it, feeling it come alive in response. Sometimes he felt like it was always ravenous, as though it had its own hunger that simply couldn’t be filled, but then it wasn’t like it devoured the emotions he used to pull it to him because he still had them. It just… took them on somehow, made them deeper, or… purer. 

He supposed this was the third option for something to do. Meditate on - _in_ \- the Force. 

Luke did this sometimes before bed - it helped to ensure he dreamed about the vast night sky. He stopped focusing on his own physical body and turned his attention entirely to the Force. He felt out for everything around him, the dozens of presences that he could sense both waking and sleeping, all the other living souls that inhabited this base and everything beyond it. His pain and hunger were conduits, something within him and outside of him, and as he let his attention move ever outwards they became more and more abstract. 

There was Ninth Sister, Zar, Banee, easy to find. The other students in the tower in their own rooms, which suggested it was nighttime now. He brushed their minds and was rewarded with brief flashes of their thoughts, whatever was foremost in their minds. Wariness and worry and self-interest, sorrow and homesickness for places they barely remembered, gnawing fear and images of students who had already died and a droid taken apart and suspended far beyond anything they could ever hope to do… 

Beyond them, minds pressed into a kind of military mold yet each with their own personalities, hopes and desires, wide-open in the Force. The stormtroopers guarding this base, their officers and… others, a mix of old and young. Those young ones… teenagers like Luke, but not Force-sensitive. He’d been dimly aware of them before, and their presences were caught up in that same silken thin-threaded web that gathered and bound everyone else. Did this place teach students other than prospective Inquisitors perhaps? 

Sentient life dropped off after that, but reaching ever further in the Force Luke could feel the buzzing, thriving, striving lives that made up the forest nourished by the rain. How far did he want to go? How far did he want to push himself? He had the vastness of several miles here inside of his awareness, and he could watch everything going on within those bounds. An ever changing, ever shifting image of blooming thoughts and emotions like ripples of colour within the greater ocean of the Dark Side… 

Luke’s body was at the centre of this great wheel, this web. Watching was… comforting. He couldn’t possibly feel bored with all this to see, and the sensations in his own form were distant and far away compared to all of this. He could wait, he could be as stubborn as he needed to be, and he _would not_ let Ninth Sister win! 

That determination flared into the Dark, fierce as a predator leaping upon prey. 

Luke lost himself to time again, flowing with the rhythm of the world around him. He was becoming ever more a part of the Dark Side, or perhaps it was becoming ever more a part of him. It was every grasping hunger and ambition in the minds of others and every base instinctual urge in the creatures of the forest. It was every bit of his own pain, every damaged and dying cell, both those which were naturally cycled and replaced and those which were suffering from what was being done to him right now. 

Luke felt like he could, perhaps, do something about that, but what did a physical form matter to him right now? 

All those little lives were moving and bleeding their silent thoughts and agonies into the Force and he was connected to them all. He was starting to see how the web-threads that connected them had been slowly grown, repeated touches upon the surface of their minds that gradually sunk within and became more and more permanent. He was their source, even if he didn’t understand how. It hadn’t been anything he was consciously doing, but he could no longer deny that he _had_ done something. 

Luke wondered what would happen if he tugged on those strings. 

The Dark shivered with anticipation and hunger at the very idea, and Luke drew back from the thought. It was hard to separate his own thoughts from the flood of pure existence within the Force, but some part of him felt dim horror at the idea that he had done something _again_ to another person’s mind. He hadn’t intended it, hadn’t _wanted_ it, but… 

But it had happened. He was one with the Dark Side and it was connecting him to each and every one of them and to everything else that the Force was a part of which was to say, everything. His sense of being Luke, of having a physical body at all, became dimmer and dimmer. He didn’t worry about that. How could he, when he felt so… so _good_. 

He became aware that one particular presence was beginning to move towards him with intent. 

Ninth Sister was heading his way. Luke followed her march up through the levels of the building towards his room, a rippling eddy in the Dark Side, hardly bothering to use his own physical senses when the Force told him so much more. She entered the room and stood regarding him, a heavy flint-obsidian-harsh-stone mass. 

“What the kriff?” she said, quietly enough he might not have heard her if not for the fact that right now he could perceive _everything_. “Kiddo, this… this is not what I meant.”

\----

Ninth Sister was afraid, and she couldn’t even remember off-hand the last time that had happened. There was a script to this, a way that things should go, and this youngling had decided to just break all the rules at his own kriffing whim. She’d obviously expected some level of resistance and the more so after the conversation they’d had, but she wasn’t even sure what the boy was _doing_ right now. 

Several days had passed since locking him in his room and all that the security feeds showed him doing after the first day was sitting on his bed and meditating. Which, okay, that was one way of getting through it. It conserved resources and of course the Dark Side would shore up his resolve. Even so she’d expected him to break out of it eventually, when the pain and weakness from lack of food really started to wear on him. Only instead… 

She couldn’t have put a finger on exactly _when_ she noticed how weird the Force was getting. Only at some point when she turned her attention towards the youngling everything was different. It was like… a black hole in the Dark Side, a sense of terrible destructive power leashed only by the weight of its own gravity. It was everywhere and it wanted everything and she had felt something like it before only twice. 

When she was in the presence of a Sith Lord. 

Since neither the Emperor or Darth Vader had deigned to visit Arkanis in some time it obviously wasn’t either of them, so… it had to be the boy. Only that simply wasn’t possible. He was a half-trained Inquisitor, no-one had ever inducted him into the greater mysteries of the Sith, and powerful as he always felt in the Force it had never been anything like this!

There wasn’t much she could do except bite the blaster-bolt and go investigate. 

Ninth Sister wrapped the protection of the Dark Side around her like a cloak and braved the lift ride up to the students’ floors. It wasn’t as much of a maelstrom as she’d been expecting, but then she supposed black holes were actually very small in comparison to their area of effect. It was also hard to tell exactly how large that area was. Her sense in the Force seemed unclear, almost a kind of optical illusion effect where you _thought_ you could tell where something was but actually it moved depending on where you were standing. 

That didn’t make her feel any more secure. 

The actual physical scene when she opened the door to the boy’s room was nothing remarkable. There he was sitting on his bed, legs crossed, hands resting on his knees, eyes closed, breathing slowly in and out. Yet when she looked into the Force there was a vast and terrible presence extruding from beneath the youngling’s skin. She was abruptly reminded of something shedding its skin, or perhaps emerging from its chrysalis. On a second glance there was an unhealthy sheen of sweat across exposed areas of flesh, and a feverish pallor across the youngling’s cheeks. 

“What the kriff?” she said to herself. “Kiddo, this… this is not what I meant.” 

A sudden horrible weight descended as the attention of that darkness turned upon her. Something brushed against the outermost shields of her mind, though it made no attempt to get in. _What’s the matter?_ the boy’s voice whispered to her. 

“Just what do you think you’re doing?” she demanded. 

_Meditating_ , the youngling said, which yes but Ninth Sister had never seen something like _this_ happen because of meditating before. 

“You should probably stop. You don’t look good.” 

_I don’t understand. I feel… good. I can see it all - I’m_ part _of it all._

No, that didn’t sound good at all. Ninth Sister prodded at the youngling’s mind trying to see what state his shields were in but… she couldn’t get any grasp on the edges of anything. It was all the Dark Side, still and deep on the surface and an endless churning roil below. She hadn’t thought she could be any more worried about this but oh, actually she could. 

“How about you open your eyes and look at me,” she suggested. 

_I am looking at you._

Ninth Sister didn’t believe in finding things creepy but… that was creepy. “I feel like you’ve made your point,” she said. “I’m pretty sure you’re going to get yourself killed doing whatever it is you’re doing, and that would frankly be a waste. So… snap out of it and I’ll just forget about this whole test. You can learn the lesson this is trying to teach without me pushing it.”

She could almost feel the youngling thinking. _The lesson. The test. I… remember. Yet why would I go back? I have everything I need right here._

The thing about creatures emerging from cocoons, Ninth Sister thought, was that the cocoon was left empty and mangled behind them. She inched closer and reached out for the boy, thinking perhaps that way she might be able to reach for his mind, ground him in some way. Her fingers brushed his skin and his eyes snapped open. 

They were burning bright Sith gold. 

“Shavit,” Ninth Sister said out loud, before the boy tried to throw her across the room with the Force. Of course her own defences were always up, and she let the battering assault of the Dark Side flow over her like water over stone, staying rooted in place. She growled and tried to pull the kid off the bed and break his concentration and connection with the Force. He tumbled forwards, limp in her grip and uncoordinated. The darkness around him flailed, perhaps not expecting a simple physical attack. 

“Get off me,” the youngling said with his own mouth, which was kriffing well progress. She slapped him - more to give him physical stimulus than to hurt. 

“Wake up,” she said. “You’re here, and this is now, and you need to stop whatever the hells it is you’re doing.”

He blinked, and some of the intensity of the colour in his eyes faded. She felt the Dark Side twist, felt a tearing separation. The boy was no longer psychically spilling out of his own skin. “Ninth Sister…” he said, some fear and uncertainty coming into his voice. 

“Are you here?” she demanded. “Are you with me?”

He wriggled out of her grasp and dropped onto the floor, not quite managing to catch himself on his feet but at least apparently in control of his arms and legs again. “I… I’m here.”

“Good.” Ninth Sister relaxed very, very slightly. 

The boy winced, and then shivered all over. He still looked ill, and she realised that his collar was still active. She shut it off with a quick stab at the control unit on her wrist, and some of the tension went out of him. She helped him to his feet. 

“You’re coming to the medbay with me,” she said. “On the way you can explain what _that_ fragging was.”

\----

**6 BBY - Appenza Peak Range, Alderaan, Alderaan System, Core Worlds**

Leia brought her speeder in to land between the trees and took a deep breath of cold mountain air, faintly tinged with the smell of pine. This had been a part of her normal morning routine for at least two years now but she never got tired of being in this landscape, with the wind whipping at her carefully secured braids, the capital just visible in the distance, and the great snow-capped mass of Appenza Peak towering above her. 

“Not bad flying,” Rex said from the seat next to her. “You won’t have any problems getting your license next year.”

“Thanks Rex,” she said, hopping out and grabbing her rucksack from the back seat. Rex loaded up his larger pack with a faint grunt of effort and together they started up on the trail towards their real destination. 

Most people believed Leia came up here to hike and train for her eventual Trial of the Body when she came of age, and they were only half-wrong. Jedi training certainly involved a lot of physical activity. Leia loved it though, and she understood exactly why it had to be kept utterly secret. Her parents made sure she had plenty of reading material to supplement the official Imperial curriculum and all of its lies and half-truths. Her father told her stories about the Republic as it had been, and the Clone Wars, and the fall of the Jedi Order and the Temple which he had seen with his own eyes. Leia knew her teachers were wanted by the Empire. She knew she and her family would be killed if anyone ever found out what she could do. 

She wasn’t afraid. She wanted to learn, and then one day strike against the Empire that did so many terrible things. 

Master Kenobi was waiting for them by the cabin, sitting on the natural bench made by a fallen tree trunk and sipping from a flask of tea that wafted steam. He smiled as they approached. 

“Is Ahsoka out on another mission?” Rex asked, setting his pack full of supplies down by the front door. 

“She left yesterday,” Obi-wan said, looking slightly guilty. “Short notice, I’m afraid.”

Rex grunted, irritated. “I know why you can’t tell me anything, but…”

“I understand,” Obi-wan said. “Of course you want to help Rex, but you do more good here looking after Leia.” 

Leia personally thought she would manage just fine on her own, but she wasn’t going to get into the middle of that. She didn’t know exactly why one of her two Masters would occasionally be gone for days or weeks at a time, but she imagined it must have something to do with the Rebellion. She knew what Imperial propaganda said about rebels but she also knew her parents were involved with the Alliance to Restore the Republic which was a rebel group by another name. Just one more reason they all had to be very careful at all times. 

“So Leia,” Obi-wan said. “How are you today?”

“I had an odd dream last night,” Leia said, starting her stretches. She got those sort of dreams occasionally and she hadn’t thought much of them until she’d mentioned them to Ahsoka one day and been told they sounded like something to do with the Force. Now she always told one of her teachers about them, even if most of the time none of them could work out what they might mean. 

Obi-wan nodded for her to go on. 

“It was raining again. I was a long way from home. There was a forest, and an Imperial base, and a lot of buildings. One of them was a tower, and there was a dragon inside the tower. It was trying to break out - I could see it fighting and thrashing through the windows, but the pourstone was too strong. I wanted to help it, but I couldn’t do anything except walk around, although at least nobody noticed me.”

There was a flicker of pain and sorrow from Obi-wan’s mind, like there so often was when Leia talked about her dreams. “I see,” he said. “Do you have any idea what planet you might have been on? Was there any writing anywhere that might give you a clue, for example?”

Leia shook her head. “Do you know what it means, master?” she asked. 

“I don’t, I’m sorry,” Obi-wan said, only Leia didn’t entirely believe him. She wasn’t sure why. 

“Perhaps we will meditate on it later,” Obi-wan continued. “For now, let us work on your lightsaber technique.”


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Luke has more bad choices to make, and things only get worse. At least he's made a new friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content warnings for teenagers dying/being killed. 
> 
> Vader comes back properly in the next chapter, I promise.

**6 BBY - Arkanis, Arkanis Sector, Outer Rim Territories**

Luke wasn’t sure what had just happened. The Force was still all around him, pressed close to him, but he had drawn back from it. Ninth Sister had pulled him back from it. He had been everywhere, connected to everything, and now he was only in one single spot, back in a body he’d stopped being aware of. It was… disorientating. He felt strange and ill-fitting in his own skin. 

Ninth Sister was worried. He could feel it even through her shields as she ushered him along. She was going to demand answers from him, but he didn’t have any to give her. What was there to explain? There was just the Force.

Everything hurt again. It hadn’t before, because his body hadn’t mattered. The collar was turned off, but every single part of him ached, and ached even more with every movement he made. His mouth was parched dry as he’d ever felt on Tatooine. His head throbbed with a stabbing pain behind his eyes, which themselves felt hot and feverish. He stumbled after Ninth Sister on legs that felt like two bits of cloth flapping in the wind. 

Ninth Sister didn’t speak again until they reached the infirmary. She didn’t even look at him. A slow shudder of fear wound up through Luke’s stomach. She always seemed so sure and in control. He’d never seen her like this before. It couldn’t possibly mean anything good. 

The door hissed shut behind them as they entered the medbay, and Luke couldn’t help but find the sound ominous. The medical droid clicked to itself as he was shoved gently in its direction. His skin tingled as it ran its scanner over him. “Dehydration and the beginnings of starvation,” it said without emotion. “General stress levels within the body are high. There is widespread mild cellular damage. Curious. What caused this?”

Ninth Sister growled, a low, deep rumble in her barrel chest. “Ask the youngling,” she said.

“I don’t know what I did!” Luke objected, as the med-droid ushered him over to one of the beds. Even climbing into it was a strain at the moment. He lay back and gave up on trying to move again for a while. There was a pinch at his elbow as the droid set up a fluid drip. 

Ninth Sister crossed her arms over her chest. “Start at the beginning,” she said. 

“I was just meditating,” Luke protested. “I do it most nights, and nothing like that has ever happened.”

“And who taught you to mediate?” 

Was that a rhetorical question? Luke frowned. “No-one  _ taught _ me. I figured it out, like I thought I was supposed to.”

“What emotion were you meditating on?”

Another odd question. “I wasn’t meditating on a specific emotion,” Luke said. “That’s not… I mean. I just reach out to the Force and connect to it? The same way as when I’m using it to levitate things, or move faster, to be stronger, to fight. Only I suppose I wasn’t asking the Force for anything in particular when I started to meditate last night…”

“Last night?” Ninth Sister said. “It’s been days.”

“Oh.” That explained why he felt like a rancor had chewed him up and spat him out. “I guess I lost track of time.”

“Hmmm.” Ninth Sister did not sound pleased. Luke reached out tentatively, almost afraid to let the Force back in after what had happened, but it obeyed his command no differently than usual. If anything, the welcoming embrace of the darkness was even more eager. Something about that felt concerning. 

Ninth Sister’s shields were as tightly locked down as ever, and her expression was unreadable. She had been just as unreadable before killing the older student - Luke couldn’t help but be reminded of that moment. His mind spun with fear and suspicion. If he had done something really wrong, then maybe she would kill him even if she thought he had potential. Maybe bringing him to the medbay was just to lull him into a false sense of security, to get information out of him before the end. 

Maybe she hadn’t made her mind up yet. 

There was still an echo in his senses of the way he had seen reality, so deeply connected to the Force. Luke could still feel the web of connections that bound him to everyone else, even Ninth Sister. The thin link latched onto her shields on her end and as Luke pushed his awareness out along it he saw that it was burrowing into that durasteel plating around her mind, making just a tiny hole that didn’t even penetrate all the way through. He thought about sand wearing away at rock, and the image felt right. 

Luke really didn’t want to try and get into Ninth Sister’s mind, but it felt like he didn’t have a choice. He was too afraid of what she was going to do, and afraid of what he had been doing himself. She might not know exactly what he had done but perhaps she suspected…

As the bag of fluid filtered into his veins a little of his strength returned with it. He pushed more of himself into that slender connection, putting a gentle but firm pressure on the place where it was starting to pierce Ninth Sister’s shields. All he needed was a tiny breach. Just enough to get a sense of things. To observe, not to influence. She would be far too strong-willed for him to do anything anyway. 

“Have you ever been so deeply connected to the Dark Side before?” Ninth Sister asked him. 

“No,” Luke said, managing to split his attention enough to answer. “This was different. I guess it was like I was becoming a part of it somehow. My body felt very far away.”

“Yes… That’s what concerns me,” Ninth Sister said, almost to herself. Luke kept the mental pressure on, feeling that small, weakened place in her shielding start to give way. He backed off ever so slightly, just enough that when he finally broke through it was a gentle slip into her mind, rather than a sudden sundering of barriers. 

Her shielding was still there all around him, and she didn’t react at all, but Luke could feel her properly now. She was afraid. Of him. 

Luke tried to take deep, slow breaths and not panic. He skimmed the uppermost part of Ninth Sister’s thoughts and almost flinched when he stumbled on a memory of himself, pale and ill and  _ not right _ in the Force. That… that was what he’d looked like? Why did his eyes look like that? Glowing yellow-bright like the suns. Did they still look that way?

_ Was I actually becoming a part of the Force _ ? Luke wondered. If he kept going, would he have left his body behind?  _ Died _ ?

“What happens now?” he asked out loud. 

“For one thing you don’t do anything like  _ that _ again,” Ninth Sister said. “I need to talk to the Grand Inquisitor about this.” 

Luke saw the image of him in her head, a tall, grey-skinned Pauan with red markings and golden-yellow eyes, familiar from the pre-recorded message he’d seen back when he was first brought to Area Null. Did the eyes mean something? They looked like Luke’s eyes in that memory. He sensed her wariness of the Pauan as well, a kind of careful respect that shied just away from outright fear. Ninth Sister didn’t know what the Grand Inquisitor would do to Luke, but she had her suspicions. She thought Luke was very, very powerful, and that he could either be a valuable asset - or a threat. 

Briefly Luke saw images of two other figures, one all in black armour with a helmet something like a skull, the other old and dressed in simple black robes, and felt the stab of fear-dread-awe that accompanied the latter in Ninth Sister’s mind. Would the Grand Inquisitor turn the boy over to them? She thought it was possible - probable even. 

Luke got the feeling that would be very bad for him. 

_ Patience,  _ the Dark Side whispered.  _ You are not yet ready to face the Sith. One day you will ascend. One day you will become that which you were destined to be. You will have all the power you desire and deserve. _

Ninth Sister was worried for herself too. She was afraid of the Grand Inquisitor and the Sith blaming her for what Luke could do, that they might read this as evidence of her own ambition, that she’d been concealing things from them, that she was disloyal, that she meant to supplant them - Luke saw all this more as impressions than actual thoughts. 

She  _ was _ wavering. She knew what her duty was, and yet… 

Luke reached out so very, very carefully, holding his breath. Ninth Sister hadn’t sensed his presence yet, but… He pushed her concern for her safety forwards, trying to coax it to the front of her mind, luring it with his own fear - or perhaps sharing his fear with her. It was so gradual that she didn’t seem to notice. Her decision hung in the balance… and then it changed. 

“Nothing will happen for now,” Ninth Sister said. “But be kriffing careful.”

\----

**6 BBY - Imperial Centre, Corusca System, Core Worlds**

Light-years distant the Emperor of the galaxy and undisputed Lord of the Sith tapped thin fingers against the arm of his throne. Vibrations in the Dark Side had made their way to him and been cut off as quickly as they had begun; twitching at the edges of a vast web. The balance of power in the Force had shifted, infinitesimally, but Darth Sidious let nothing slip his gaze no matter how small. 

He brought the Dark Side to heel beneath the baleful weight of his hatred and commanded the skeins of the future to show themselves to him. Then he relaxed back into the comfort of his throne. The cause of this disturbance would bring itself to him in time. There was no need to seek it out. All he had to do was wait. 

\----

**6 BBY - In hyperspace, SSD-** **_Devastator_ **

Lord Vader rose from a state of half-meditation, half-slumber within the white egg-shell of a life support pod. The faint hum of the Star Destroyer's engines came up through the floor, felt in the press of tender bare skin to sterile metal, but that was not what had woken him. The Dark Side called out to him in an echo of his own ever-present rage, but it was already fading. The source of it was elusive. 

It did not matter. Many things distubed the Force, but few of them interested him. It was not Kenobi or Tano, and so he did not have it in him to care. 

His true prey remained elusive. This latest trip chasing the faintest hint of a trail had been a failure. He would return to Mustafar and his other responsibilities. 

\----

**6 BBY - Arkanis, Arkanis Sector, Outer Rim Territories**

Life, and Luke’s training, continued. Frequently he felt Ninth Sister watching him, skirting the edge of suspicion and worry in her mind. It became second nature to slip along their connection and suggest that her attention turn away, that there was nothing she needed to concern herself about. It wasn’t hurting her. Luke was sure about that. He knew what a damaged brain looked like now, and this wasn’t it. 

He was careful not to do anything else that would draw that attention back to him. He’d checked himself in the mirror when he was finally allowed back to his room, and his eyes looked normal again, which was a relief. If they’d still been yellow, everyone would know something strange had happened. When he meditated, he didn’t let himself fall so deep into the Force, and he didn’t repeat that showy trick with the droid again. He practised his katas and paid attention to his lessons and did his best to pretend that everything was fine. 

“Are you okay?” Banee asked him, in a stolen moment in the corridors. “You were gone for a long time.”

“It’s fine,” Luke said, doing his best to project reassurance. “I got through it. I don’t blame you either, for doing what you have to do to survive.” 

“That’s not the only thing I might have to do,” she said, her uncertainty and doubt a sticky pool of shadow in the Dark Side. “That  _ you  _ might have to do, if we don’t escape from here.”

Luke wondered if escape was really possible. He knew he could destroy a droid, possibly many droids, scavenge what they needed from their scrap, and get out of this building. They could do it while Ninth Sister was sleeping. But what about after that? There were still the stormtroopers, and he wasn’t sure how much use the training sabers would be against real blasters even if they deflected low-powered practise bolts just fine. How many people would they have to kill on their way out? How many after that, when the Empire chased them down? The Inquisitors would come for them - although the idea of a life constantly on the run wasn’t an impossible one. 

Even though when Luke thought about escape he wanted it desperately, there was always a not-quite-real quality to it. Like a comforting fantasy. When he tried to go through it step by step, to get there from here, it didn’t hold together. He made excuses for himself. A part of him was held back, somehow knowing it… wasn’t meant to be. The Force, or destiny, told him his place was here. 

He thought Banee might feel the same way, because she didn’t try to talk about their plan. She was feeling tired and ambivalent and guilty, and maybe they had both lost some spark of hope along the way. 

_ Or maybe this is the only path to the power you know you need _ , the Dark Side suggested, and it was harder to bat that thought away.

\----

Luke knew he was dreaming - it was one of those lucid dreams again - but he wasn't amongst the dark constellations of space this time. Instead a field of green grass spread out all around him, the sound of water roaring in the distance. He had no idea where he was, but it was the prettiest place he'd ever seen. He never got to see the outside on Arkanis - the most he'd seen of the galaxy was holos in his lessons. It was so bright and vibrant! So full of life! 

Luke walked through the tall grass and ran his fingers through it, amazed. He could actually feel it - cool and slightly damp and giving off a kind of smell that seemed impossible for just a dream. He was grinning - he could feel it stretching the corners of his mouth. Then he heard the faint sound of laughter in the distance. Apparently he wasn't alone here. 

Heading that way, he could just see two figures sitting down in the sea of green with their heads leaned in close to each other. They were facing away from him, but he could see the man was wearing simple brown tunics like any Tatooine farmer, whereas the woman was far more fancily dressed. Her long dress was tucked under her, protected from the grass by a blanket spread out below the pair. Their voices were soft murmurs, too quiet to hear until she laughed again, happy and carefree and content. Who were they? Why would he see this? Luke was sure just from the type of dream it was that it meant something. 

"Who are you?" someone said. 

Luke turned round. This new person wasn't a person at all. Instead he was looking at a shape, humanoid and just a bit shorter than he was, made entirely out of flowers - pure pale white ones with red centres. Even though it wasn't windy here there was a constant stream of petals blowing away and then disappearing into the air. Bright blue eyes looked him over. "You don't look like you're meant to be here," she said - the voice sounded like a girl at least. 

"I could ask you the same question," he said. 

"I was here first."

Luke frowned. "Do you know where we are then?" 

"Tell me who you are first," the flower-girl said. 

"My name's Luke," Luke said, after a few moments of hesitation. He wasn't meant to have a name, but this didn't feel like it had anything to do with Ninth Sister or the Inquisitorius. It was  _ probably _ safe to tell her. "What's yours?"

"Leia," she said. "What are you though?"

"What do you mean what am I? I'm a human? Haven't you seen a human before?" Given that she was made out of plants he might have guessed not, but the pair sitting in the grass were both humans. 

"Of course I've seen a human before," Leia said, obviously offended. "You just don't look like one."

Luke looked down. He saw only his usual self, dressed in his grey uniform. Nothing odd at all. "I look like one to me," he said cautiously. 

"I just see... shadows and mist," she said, waving a hand at him. 

"Wait... what about you? Are you human?"

"Yes!" 

"You don't look human to me either," Luke said. "There must be a reason neither of us look like we would while we're awake."

"So you're dreaming too," Leia said, almost to herself. "What do you see when you look at me?"

"You're made of these red-and-white flowers. You've got blue eyes though."

"That's interesting. Your eyes are yellow. Are you sure you're a human - that you aren't just dreaming that you're one?"

Luke had a sudden lurching moment of doubt, but then he caught himself. No, that was obviously nonsense. He didn't like the fact that his eyes looked like that though - he suspected they were the same as in Ninth Sister's memory of him. He wasn't sure what it meant, but it didn't feel good. 

"The flowers... do they have five petals? Long thin ones?" 

"Oh... yes," Luke said. 

The girl nodded. "Alderaani fire-lilys," she said. "They're my favourite." 

"I guess that makes sense." At least it did in this dream-world. Symbols were important. Luke glanced back at the couple sitting nearby. They didn't seem to have noticed the conversation going on nearby, or at least they hadn't reacted at all. "You said you'd tell me where we were."

"Oh, I don't actually know," Leia said. "I've come here a few times before in my sleep. I usually watch them for a while, but they don't do much other than sit there and talk. They feel... I don't know. Familiar somehow. Only I can't see their faces, no matter how hard I try."

Luke looked at them again. He kind of understood what she meant. It was like he ought to know them. A sense of something just out of reach, and if he tried a little harder, thought a little harder, it would come to him. "I wonder what it means," he said. "Why we're both here."

The girl shrugged. She sat down, the grass flowing around her. "I'll wake up again in a while. I suppose since you're here, you might as well sit with me. Unless you want to explore a bit? There's waterfalls in the distance, but you can't get to them either."

Luke thought about it, but he didn't want to move away from the gentle scene. He didn't know why. He sat. "I'll stay," he said.

When he woke up that morning he remembered the dream, but it didn't make any more sense. 

\----

Luke might have been spared from Ninth Sister’s manipulations, but that didn’t hold for any of the other students. It wasn’t all targeted at him, and indeed he suspected that given any choice he was always the target of last resort. He couldn’t ignore how afraid they all were of him now, even Banee. Zar had to be the only one who wasn’t. 

It wasn’t just poisoning, although after the gran boy started vomiting after their communal lunch Luke got the proof that whatever it was wouldn’t have killed him. Other kinds of violence were encouraged as well. Hissed insults in passing in the corridors were easy for him to ignore when he knew they didn’t know anything about him really. The ambushes were less so. 

Sometimes it was a trap, some rigged improvised explosive device that was never very strong. Other times it was a more open attack, someone coming at him with a vibroblade they shouldn’t have had while he was unarmed. Of course with the Force, Luke was never unarmed. The real challenge was not hurting them too badly when he fought back. He knew they didn’t have much choice - they were trapped between their fear of Luke and of Ninth Sister. They could probably sense Luke would rather not kill them, so he understood why he was the safer option. 

Still, he didn’t understand why they always found it so easy to find him. Luke tried hiding or doubling back and taking an odd route after leaving the salle or the mess hall whenever he caught that sense of frightened determination and harmful intent, but whatever he did it never worked. Unerringly, they tracked him down. 

Eventually and almost at his wit's end, Luke pinned the dug girl to the wall with the Force and demanded she tell her how they were doing it. 

“How could we  _ not _ find you?” she asked, fighting to breathe around his hold. “It’s impossible to ignore you wherever you are.” 

She meant his Force presence, Luke realised, and felt a bit foolish. He should have thought of that himself. It was clear he would have to do something about that, but he wasn’t sure how. 

Trusting in trial and error when it came to the Force had been harmful as much as helpful, but given what was going on Luke didn’t think Ninth Sister would be willing to teach him how to be less obvious. He was careful about it, since he had no intentions of getting lost in the Force like he’d almost done before, and gradually he managed to work out a few ways to avoid detection. 

It might not hold up to someone who was fully trained to use the Force if they were really searching for him, but by the dramatic drop-off in the number of times someone jumped him with a knife, it was enough for his purposes. 

**\----**

**5 BBY - Arkanis, Arkanis Sector, Outer Rim Territories**

“You’re going to die,” the rodian girl snarled, as she brought her saber down in a heavy overhead blow. Luke caught it on his own and turned it aside, stepping past, twirling his blade out of saber-lock, and trying a transverse swipe towards her midsection. She leapt backwards out of the way with the Force singing through her, eyes burning with anger. Luke centered himself in the Dark, every part of him thrumming with heightened senses, with the sharp, keen hunger of violence. 

She meant what she said, but it wasn’t a promise Luke intended to let her keep. He moved smoothly from defence to attack, pressing her back with powerful strikes that she had to scramble to block. He wasn’t thinking about his actions but relying on the flow of the Force guiding him into the fight, as natural as death itself. 

Around the pair other hungry minds focused in on their duel, caught up in the adrenaline and adding their emotions to the swirl of the Dark Side, all part of the greater whole and feeding into Luke. It wouldn’t be the first time a training duel had turned into one with deadly intent. Ninth Sister never stepped in. This was part of the process.

Mostly the combatants stepped down before the final blow was struck, testing each other’s strength and ability almost but not quite to the breaking point. The rodian was getting impatient though, driven by a desperate worry that the other students might come to outstrip her abilities if she left things too long. She’d already killed the dug girl, leaving their training group numbering six. Now she wanted Luke removed from the running. 

He didn’t want to kill her. She started this, and she  _ would _ kill him if he didn’t fight back, but the thought made Luke queasy and ill. It was easier to sink into the Force and avoid thinking about it altogether. 

They danced back and forth over the floor of the salle. Her anger beat away at him but slid from his shields, serving only to pull the Force to her and doing nothing to him. Their sabers wove patterns of light. There was a savage beauty to it that made him warm and satisfied, a simple physical pleasure that helped to focus on. He wanted victory, not to kill, wanted to be better, to prove his worth - the Dark Side responded with more strength, more speed, more awareness of his bones and muscles and air over his skin and bright colour all around… 

The rodian lunged and he turned her blade away, leaving her open. He pressed forwards sweeping her legs out from under her and let his saber stop just short of her throat. His whole body quivered with leashed violence, damp with sweat, breath a hot hurricane in his throat, but neither instinct nor desire to kill. 

She glared up at him, not daring to move. 

“Finish it,” Ninth Sister said, her voice a sudden, foreign interruption. “Or start back up again. The time for mercy is over.”

Luke couldn’t move. He couldn’t bring himself to lean forwards just that small bit further. The training sabers didn’t kill easily either - they burned slow. When the dug died it was screaming, agonising, bleeding off into the Force in black whirling smoke-clouds of pain. Just the memory of it made him shy away. 

The rodian rolled away from him and back onto her feet, bringing her saber back into guard. He could faintly see his own reflection in her eyes. A pale welt of a burn was starting to show against her neck where the tip of his blade had hovered. 

“You don’t have what it takes,” she said, and attacked again. 

Unsettled, it took a few long moments for Luke to get back in tune with the Force. It was long enough for her to almost catch him on the shoulder, leaving his grey tunic smouldering. He had to ignore it, filtering the pain back into the Dark. She wasn’t going to back down, wasn’t going to stop or surrender. She would keep on trying to kill him until she did, or he stopped her. 

Luke tried to think in between defending himself. He had options - like Ninth Sister said, there were always choices. Only he couldn’t see any that didn’t end in someone’s death. He wasn’t going to let her kill him. He could injure her too much to keep fighting, but then Ninth Sister would finish her off. He could try and do something to her mind, which would have the same result. He could kill her himself. That… was all there was. 

It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t just. He didn’t want to. It didn’t matter. 

His anger wasn’t personal, it was on the rodian’s behalf and the behalf of all the students, not just for himself. The Dark Side responded to it all the same. It gave him strength, it gave him power, and he fell upon her in a furious flurry of attacks too blindingly swift to be blocked. He burned through her wrist to make her drop her saber, burned into the meat of her thigh so she dropped to one knee, and thrust towards her heart. 

She grabbed for the blade in an instinctive attempt to stop it, and smoke and the smell of burning flesh rose up from her palms. She screamed, and he pushed forwards, wrapping the Force around her and pinning her in place. It took all his augmented strength to force the dull plasma through into her heart. 

Her presence winked out, a deeper darkness within the Dark. She slumped, limp, until he let her fall and stood back, trying to keep a lid on his emotions that snapped wild and raging inside of him. 

“Well done,” Ninth Sister said. Somewhere a door slid open, and a droid appeared to drag away the body. Luke wanted to scream at it to leave her alone, to give her a little respect in death, but it wouldn’t achieve anything. Her blood was on  _ his _ hands. 

He swallowed against the need to vomit and looked away. He never wanted to do that again, but… the necessity of this same choice was going to be put before him whether he wanted it or not. 

\----

“What's the matter?” Leia asked. “You look more… shadowy than usual.”

Luke kept on coming back to this dreamscape, although not as often as he saw the stars. He was fairly certain that Leia was a real person somewhere in the galaxy at this point, but he didn’t know why they were being drawn together or what this shared scene meant. She’d told him a few things about herself, so he knew her family were rich and important, and that she was from a Core World, that she liked hiking and target shooting and discussing politics - which he tried to avoid doing with her - but it wasn’t enough to identify her. There were lots of daughters of powerful people in the Empire. 

She knew he was training at an Imperial academy, but not much more. He thought she must be Force-sensitive just because she was here with him and he… didn’t want her to know what he really was. 

“It’s nothing,” he said. “I’m fine.”

She gave him a disbelieving look. Considering that all the grass around where Luke was sitting was starting to wilt, he understood why. “You can tell me,” she said. “We’re friends, aren’t we?”

“Of course we are.” He had few enough of those that he cherished each one, and he really did like Leia. When he was here with her, he could almost forget the reality he would wake up to. “I just… I don’t want to talk about it. You’ll look at me differently. Things will be different between us.”

“I trust you.” Now it was Luke’s turn for the disbelieving look. “No really, I do. I know we don’t know that much about each other - there’s things it wouldn’t be safe for us to know, I understand - but I still sense that you’re a good person at heart.”

“I didn’t have a choice.” It sounded hollow. Yes he did. It was just that they were all bad choices. “It was me or her.”

“You hurt someone?”

Luke nodded. He couldn’t make himself say the words. He couldn’t admit to murder. 

“Did you want to do it?”

“No.”

“Do you regret it?”

“Absolutely.”

Leia hesitated. “When I get older, I’m probably going to end up hurting people too,” she said, picking her words carefully. “It won’t be because I want to, but… it’ll be like that. Like you just said. No other option.” 

Luke reached out and took her hand. It felt real, human, flesh and blood rather than flowers. It helped. 

“You’re going to be working for the Empire,” Leia said. “You told me that much. I… I don’t want what the Empire wants. I’m going to fight to make things better. I might end up fighting you - or people like you. Maybe that means we can’t be friends anymore but…”

“No!” Luke said quickly. “I understand! I’m not… I’m at the Academy because it was decided for me. I don’t agree with how the Empire is run right now - it could be doing so much more good. It could stop slavery, stop hurting people, stop… all the terrible things it does.”

“Are you hoping to change things from the inside?” Leia asked. 

“I hope I can.” 

“I don’t know if I have that option,” she said. “That’s what I mean - if I want to fight, it has to be from the outside. That means I’m going to end up hurting Imperial troops. I could hurt you.”

“I hope you never see me on the other side of a battlefield,” Luke said, meaning every word. He was never going to tell anyone in the Inquisitorius about Leia, but that didn’t mean they wouldn’t find her anyway. 

“Even if you did… I forgive you in advance,” Leia said, gripping his hand tighter. “Sometimes we have to do things we don’t want to, to survive. To change the world.”

\----

**5 BBY - Alderaan, Alderaan System, Core Worlds**

Leia couldn’t get the night’s conversation out of her head the next day, and she wasn’t the only one who noticed. 

“Do you have something to tell me Leia?” Obi-wan asked her, pausing their spar. 

She shook her head. “It’s nothing.” She hadn’t told her Master about these particular dreams, even though they kept happening, and she wasn’t entirely sure why. At first she had just told herself he wouldn’t approve of her talking to someone who was clearly on the side of the Empire, but it was more than that. Maybe it was just that she didn’t have many friends her own age. She felt a connection to Luke that wasn’t quite like the one she felt with anyone else. 

“You seem distracted.”

She pushed a stray strand of hair out of her face. “I just didn’t sleep well last night.”

“Ah.” Obi-wan nodded in understanding. “Bad dreams?”

“No, just odd ones. The one about the grass, and the couple - I’ve told you about that before haven’t I?” 

A familiar look came over her Master’s face; sorrow. She didn’t know why - there were things Obi-wan didn’t tell her. Things about his past that were just too painful. That was okay. She didn’t tell him everything either. They both deserved to keep their secrets. 

“Again?” she asked, raising her saber. Her father’s, really. She tried not to ask too much about her biological father. It was another thing that made Obi-wan, Ahsoka and Rex sad, and she loved her adoptive parents too much to pry when it hurt her mentors. She didn’t need to know. 

“Again,” Obi-wan said. “It is always good to learn how to fight while distracted.”


	11. The Crucible

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There is one final price to pay to leave Arkanis.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content warnings for yet more teen murder.

**4 BBY - Arkanis, Arkanis Sector, Outer Rim Territories**

The final exams of the Imperial curriculum were coming up, but Luke was finding it hard to focus on them. Although it was required that he earned good marks, imperfection  _ there _ wasn’t deadly, not like lightsaber training. How could he think about politics and protocol, old military battles and the details of star systems, when he knew what else was coming? 

He knew Ninth Sister expected him to kill his friends. She wanted him specifically to do it - that was the only reason he could see that the three of them were the last ones standing. The human girl had died at the hands of the gran, and Banee had beaten him in turn. Zar had managed to survive a few almost-duels, although there had been times when Luke had to offer him strength through the Force, that same trick he’d used years ago to bleed off his pain. He didn’t know if Ninth Sister only intended to let one of them graduate, if it was possible for there to be two. He doubted even at his most wildly hopeful that all three of them would make it through. 

Luke kept on trying to come up with plans in his head. Trying to find some version of reality where they all lived. What if they  _ all  _ refused to fight each other? Would Ninth Sister decide who to kill herself? Or would she kill them all for refusing to learn the lesson of betrayal? She surely wouldn’t hesitate to deal out the consequences for making that choice. She’d promised him that before. 

What about escaping? It was still possible. Even if not for Luke, maybe he could help get Zar or Banee away? 

He just wasn’t sure. Since the last time Empire day had come around, what had to be months back now, he’d felt a distance growing between him and his friends. They knew what was coming just like he did, and even though he didn’t think any of them were intending to do it they were pulling away from each other. Protecting themselves for the moment the vibroaxe fell. 

He almost felt closer to Leia, someone he only met in his dreams. Even then there was only so much he could confide in her, only so much he wanted to share about the horrors in his life. 

He didn’t want to kill his friends. He wasn’t sure he was strong enough to die for them. And if he couldn’t, how could he ask that kind of trust and loyalty in return? Luke supposed that was what Ninth Sister was trying to show him. 

Kriff it all! It wasn’t fair to expect that from anyone! Even if it did all turn out the way he saw it in his nightmares and in the anxious moments of his waking thoughts, that didn’t mean their friendship had been worth nothing all along. It didn’t mean he shouldn’t have bothered, or that it was impossible to have friends. 

The thought of killing them was tearing him up inside, but it wasn’t like letting Ninth Sister do it instead of him was any better. They would still be dead. 

Luke didn’t see a way out. 

\----

“It’s time,” Ninth Sister said, and pointed Luke into the centre of the salle. As she tapped something on her wrist controls, the training saber in his hands started to hum louder and stronger, and he hated that some part of him was actually  _ grateful _ for that. It would mean a quicker death. 

He moved forwards, exchanging grim looks with Zar and Banee. Which one of them would it be? Or maybe Ninth Sister expected him to fight them both. He couldn’t stop himself from flinching when she waved Zar into place opposite him. He wanted to scream. 

The Force surged around him, vast and eager. It offered him all the strength he could ever need, if he opened himself up to it and used the rage and frustration burning inside of him. Could he take on Ninth Sister with it? Defeat her, kill her? Some wild part of him thought it was  _ possible _ , but… Her lightsaber was a real one. She was powerful, and experienced and anyway something about the idea felt uncomfortable. Harsh as she could be, Luke didn’t want her dead - besides, it wasn’t just her. It was this whole system, the Inquisitorius, the Empire. The Sith Lords behind it all. 

If he wanted to end this, to stop it happening to any more children like them, then this was not the moment to act. He knew that with the bone-deep certainty that came from the Force, and he hated that it was true. 

“I guess we’re doing this,” Zar said, activating his saber and baring his fangs. Luke sensed his fear and desperation as well as his pure intent to fight on despite them. To give as good of a showing as he could. 

_ You don’t have to do this _ , Luke wanted to shout at him. Only that would be a lie. He dropped into a ready stance, sick despair prickling a cold sweat over his skin. His heart screamed at him to run, to get away from this horrific situation, but there was no escape. 

Luke couldn’t make himself be the first one to attack. Zar approached him with caution, testing his defences with little flicking blows, easy to meet without much effort. The Dark Side swirled around them both, watching, waiting, the maw of a sarlacc waiting to be fed. Luke could take no comfort in it. Touching it could only make him feel worse as it magnified and purified his anxious guilt and fear. 

“It’s okay,” Zar whispered to him as he lunged and locked their blades together. Luke could only just hear him over the snap of plasma. “I knew this would happen. I’m ready for it.”

Luke drew back, his gut churning. Zar was telling the truth - there was a stillness, an acceptance, at the core of his mind. He was still afraid of it, still had the urge to try to prevent it, but that was for the sake of his pride. He wasn’t about to lay down and die, but... 

Luke would have reached deeper, but he still had to concentrate on their duel. He couldn’t gather the will and intent to let the Force guide him, to become a thing of predatory instinct. Not here. Not against Zar. 

“I don’t want to do this,” he said, words catching in his throat. 

Zar attacked again, moving in the pattern of well-drilled katas but always just a little too slow, a little too weak, to have kept him alive if Luke had been  _ trying _ . An edge of frustration made its way into his Force presence. “You have to do this,” he said, the next time they were close enough again. Too quiet for Ninth Sister to hear. “Even if I beat you, I wouldn’t last long after that. You’re the only one who has a chance.”

Again they separated. This almost felt like normal training, like sparring, if Luke let himself forget Ninth Sister’s expectations. There was an ease to it, the steps of a dance he knew by heart. Plenty of space to think, to hurt. It would have been less agonizing if it was more of a challenge. 

“There are other options,” Luke said, as their blades met in a quick flurry of blows. 

Zar gave a quick negative shake of his head. “No good ones. Luke… I’d rather it was you doing it than anyone else here. Make it quick. Then go make all of these slavers pay for what they’ve done to us.” His last words were accompanied by a vicious spike of hate in the Force, enough to send Luke reeling. 

Zar… Zar really was willing to die for him. 

Luke had to close his eyes briefly to stop the tears from spilling out. His heart ached as much as if Zar had stabbed him. The Dark Side shuddered, sensing his conflict. How could he accept that kind of sacrifice? It wasn’t fair. If anything, surely this should be the other way around! He should be the one to throw himself on Zar’s blade. 

Only his friend had already thought about and discarded that option. Luke wouldn’t be saving his life for very long. 

He couldn’t kill him. He couldn’t reject his sacrifice either. He couldn’t take his choice away from him. 

Luke’s emotions were spilling over into the Force, dripping out of him and staining it like ink bleeding into cheap flimsi. Not hate or fear or anger, but a desperate sorrow and love. The Dark Side responded in kind, in a way Luke didn’t remember ever feeling before. It was colour brilliant as an oil-slick, a warm breeze, the taste of milk and the scent of fur, a purr rumbling in a deep, safe den. Kinship and connection, parents and pack. The other sort of striving and struggling towards the goal of life, where a willing death brought the security of others. 

This was a different kind of power and strength, but no less real. Luke felt Zar feeling it too, the two of them together in the heart of the whirlwind of the Force. He sensed Zar’s acceptance. It wouldn’t, could never be, a peaceful death. They were creatures of the Dark, and the Dark did not allow peace. It would be a meaningful death though. Luke made that promise, swearing it to the very Force itself. He would not allow Zar to have sacrificed himself for nothing. 

Luke made it quick, piercing through the neck as he’d seen Ninth Sister do. It still had him screaming denial into the silence of his own head, grasping at the flickers of Zar’s life as they trickled out and became one with the Force. 

Luke pulled the training saber free and flung it away, unable to bear touching it anymore. His cheeks were wet, and he didn’t dare speak because it would come out a sob. Somewhere eyes were on him - Banee. How much of that had she sensed? Did she know it had been Zar’s choice? 

Heavy footsteps approached behind him. 

“Interesting,” Ninth Sister said, with a wealth of meaning in that one word. Luke tried not to react. Of course that had felt off to her, of course she had sensed that. 

He didn’t reply. Would she want to discuss it in more detail? He didn’t think he could right now. 

“You’re still conflicted,” Ninth Sister said, after a drawn out moment of silence. “I suppose in the end that doesn’t matter, so long as you can still do what must be done. You’re only causing yourself more pain, but then pain is of the Dark.” 

“What now?” Luke asked. He couldn’t look at Banee. He was so tired inside. He couldn’t think about having to kill her too. 

“Now you get to leave this place. We’re going to Mustafar.”

\----

Luke spent the days after Zar’s death in a kind of haze. Nothing much was expected of him while Ninth Sister made preparations for them to leave. If this was grief, it was a different sort to what he’d experienced before. More empty. More numb. 

All he had was time to think. He was still grappling with the choice Zar had made to sacrifice himself, worrying that he couldn’t be worthy of it. Right now he certainly didn’t  _ feel _ worthy. His friend was dead. There was no flinching away from it, no way to hide or look away. There was an emptiness in reality where he simply wasn’t. 

He was going to become an Inquisitor. He was going to gain power. He was going to change things. Revenge and justice were the only things he could pursue to repay the debt of Zar’s life. 

\----

**4 BBY - Fortress Vader, Mustafar, Atravis Sector, Outer Rim Territories**

Coming to Mustafar was always an experience. The Dark Side was so thick and heady here that it was like being drunk. The temptation was always to get lost in it, but Ninth Sister had always been able to maintain her own control. Bringing the boy here felt dangerous in a new way after that stunt he’d pulled diving into the Force, no matter how accidentally. She didn’t want to think about the consequences if he wasn’t able to resist that under-tow pull. 

The shuttle descended through sulphurous clouds, burning red against the shields as though they were being swallowed alive. Darth Vader was below, a dark star warping the world around him, the beating heart of the planet’s Dark Side nexus. He was more tolerable at a distance, although Ninth Sister had long ago gotten used to his walking-wound presence. 

She left their pilot to it and headed aft to check on the younglings. They were almost Inquisitors now but their final tests still lay ahead of them, and they would survive or fall on their own merits. She wouldn’t be the one judging them anymore. 

The twi’lek was perched alert and back ramrod straight in her seat. Her presence was steady and determined, controlling the fear she had from not knowing what to expect. She gave Ninth Sister a wary glance, unspoken questions hovering at the front of her mind. She’d been taught to shield too, but Ninth Sister’s empathic talents made shielding at least partly moot. 

The human… there was a far-off, distant look in his eyes that made her wary. 

Ninth Sister still didn’t know quite what to make of the boy. He was… strange. His strength and his abilities didn’t make sense for a previously naive and untrained child, but she knew he had come to them the same unmolded clay as any other youngling picked up by Project Harvester. Perhaps it didn’t matter. He was theirs now. He would serve the Empire and the Sith, and he would make them all stronger for it.

“You good?” she asked him. 

The boy startled out of his thoughts. “Yes Ninth Sister.” 

“Careful,” she warned him. “The Dark Side is powerful here.”

“I can feel it,” he said. “It’s not just the Dark Side though. There’s something else down there.”

“That’d be Darth Vader.” There wasn’t any harm in giving them a head’s up. They weren’t likely to encounter Vader straight away; he had better things to do with his time than greet trainees.

The boy’s eyes widened, surprise and a sliver of hate sharp-edged in his mind. “Are we allowed to know anything about him?” At least he was polite about asking. 

_ He’s a stubborn, unkillable, sadistic son of a bantha _ , was what she wanted to say, but she wasn’t that foolish. “He’s pretty much a force of nature,” she said. “Treat him with the same wariness and respect as you do the lava, and that might be enough.” 

“If he commands the Inquisitors, will we be working with him a lot?” the boy asked. 

“Not so much these days,” Ninth Sister said. “Back when there were more Jedi left, more real hunting, we accompanied him frequently. Now he’s just focused on tracking down Kenobi.”

“Kenobi?” The boy frowned. “I… That name sounds familiar.”

Now it was Ninth Sister’s turn to frown. The modified Inquisitor’s curriculum discussed the Jedi and their role in the corrupt Republic in general terms. It didn’t mention specific Masters often and it particularly didn’t name Obi-wan Kenobi. He’d been talked about during the war in glowing terms, made to look like a hero - the kind of thing that would muddy the waters of who’d been right and wrong back then. Ninth Sister knew things had never been as rosy as that Republic propaganda made it look. Kenobi had been a Council member - he had been part of their coup against the Sith. Justified as he might have been by Jedi dogma, he was still a traitor by Galactic law. 

So where might the boy have heard of him? 

The youngling shook his head. “I can’t remember,” he said, as if answering her silent question. “Maybe it’ll come to me.”

“He’s a Jedi and a traitor,” Ninth Sister said. “A masterful duelist. There’s no chance pipsqueaks like you two will ever be asked to face him, so I wouldn’t worry about it too much.”

“But isn’t that what we’re for?” the boy asked. “Hunting Jedi?”

“Don’t jump towards glory so fast you end up impaled on a lightsaber. Kenobi’s killed Sith before. He’s killed Inquisitors before.” Only one that they could prove, but there had been a few times over the years that an Inquisitor had gone missing. There was no clear pattern to it, no leads when Lord Vader went chasing after the scent of his nemesis, but still. Who else could it be? “He’ll certainly kill you without breaking a sweat.” At least right now. Give it a few years.

The boy nodded, accepting that answer although he was obviously still trying to remember where he’d heard the name. She wondered if perhaps they’d crossed paths… 

Wait. Ninth Sister’s eyes narrowed as her own memories kicked into gear. The boy had been delivered by Tenth Sister, on that same trip she’d run into Kenobi and Fifth Brother had died for it. The year they all found out Obi-wan Kenobi had been alive this whole time. Had this youngling actually  _ known  _ Kenobi? 

Only that didn’t make sense. If they’d been on the same  _ planet _ Kenobi should have become aware of the boy’s presence at some point, and then he would have surely taken him on as a padawan. Clearly that hadn’t happened - there’d been nothing Jedi about him when he’d arrived. 

Unless Fifth Brother and Tenth Sister had detected the boy the same time Kenobi had. Unless chance or the Force had brought them all together at that moment. She shook herself. She didn’t suppose they would ever know for sure. Kenobi was long gone from Tatooine - Vader had searched his homestead there years ago without anything to show for it. Any potentially helpful information the boy might have would be years out of date. 

Dismissing it from her thoughts, Ninth Sister rejoined the pilot in the cockpit as they made their final approach. Behind the thick cloud layer the sun was up, although given Mustafar’s volcanic nature there was always enough light in the glow of molten rock to see even at night. She sensed the pilot’s distaste for this place, but he was doing a good job of concealing it so she would let it slide. Some part of her even agreed with him, although it felt traitorous. Mustafar was a nexus in the Dark Side, and should be revered as such. 

They came in over the lava river and hovered down to a gentle landing. “You might as well stay with the ship,” Ninth Sister told the pilot, to his relief. “Don’t know how long I’ll be. We’ll let you know.” 

The shuttle’s ramp lowered with a hiss, letting in a heavy wave of hot air that slapped them in the face and brought with it a sulphurous, almost meaty scent. It wasn’t exactly unpleasant, but there was nowhere that smelled quite like it and besides the heat made it constantly hard to breathe. Ninth Sister led them out onto the small landing ground, the black obsidian almost too warm for comfort against the bare pad of her flesh foot. From far below, lava spat and churned. Darth Vader’s castle was a dark spear against the grey sky a few miles along the cliffs, the architecture all Sith grandiosity. The Jedi she’d once been would have called it brutal. Now she could appreciate the effect it had on the observer. 

Speaking of Lord Vader… 

“Ninth Sister. It has been some time since you last returned here.” That was  _ not _ the Grand Inquisitor, as she’d been expecting.

“Training Inquisitors is busy work, my lord,” she replied, quickly recovering from her surprise. She wasn’t going to bother spending the energy trying to work out why Darth Vader was here doing such a menial task as a meet and greet. Obviously the Grand Inquisitor must be out on a mission, and perhaps the Sith had been bored. For the most part Ninth Sister understood how to act around Vader in order to avoid painful consequences, but he had these odd moments. Sometimes it was nothing more than some strange whim, but at others it felt like he was reacting based on his past and old, painful memories. 

Ninth Sister tried not to wonder who he had been, before. That was a dangerous kind of thought. 

Lord Vader said nothing, but his attention was focused on them, utterly unmistakable. It was hard to bear the weight of his presence so close up, this roaring, empty  _ thing _ that lensed the Force around it like a singularity. The younglings’ fear spiked, sharp and acrid. Fear and anger too, with an ice cold undertone of hate. That was fine. A Sith would hardly punish anyone for hate. 

If Vader was looking for anything in particular, he didn’t seem to find it. At least, his mental presence drew back slightly and he turned on his heel, leading them away from the shuttle and down the long set of stairs towards the main Inquisitorius complex. 

“D’you want my report now?” Ninth Sister asked, keeping a respectful pace behind his shoulder. Vader might sound formal all the time, but he didn’t require that from the Inquisitors. “Not that there’s much to say.”

“It will wait for the Grand Inquisitor’s return,” Vader said. Yeah, she hadn’t really expected him to care. His shields were burning lava and molten glass, utterly impenetrable, which would have mattered if she’d wanted to read his thoughts. Her empathic abilities didn’t care about shields. He felt just like he always did; constant low-level seething pain, cored-out emptiness, the aching death-wish she knew he  _ still _ hadn’t recognised for what it was. It wasn’t like all Sith felt like that. The Emperor certainly never did. 

Ninth Sister was happy enough being a cog in the Imperial machine, but if she ever had to become a Sith she hoped it was the Darth Sidious kind, not the Darth Vader kind. 

“When will the Grand Inquisitor be back?” she asked. 

“That depends on how  _ competent  _ he is feeling,” Vader said. Rage stirred briefly, soothing emptiness. Of all the Inquisitors he liked the Grand Inquisitor the least. Ninth Sister thought it was because he regarded him as competition, although really he had nothing to worry about. The Grand Inquisitor was good, but he wasn’t Sith good. 

“You could have sent one of the others out to meet me,” she said. 

“There was a disturbance,” Vader said, which was… ominous. Ninth Sister turned just enough to glance at the younglings trailing behind them. Both met her gaze, looking quizzical and uncomprehending. She knew where she’d put her credits if she had to bet on the source of that disturbance. The boy’s presence was huddled behind his shields, a tight ball. If she hadn’t known better she might have thought him to be only a stronger than average Force-sensitive. 

“Perhaps I was mistaken,” Darth Vader continued. 

Ninth Sister shrugged. He didn’t want her report, so she wouldn’t say anything. 

\----

Luke had thought he knew what heat was like, but Tatooine was  _ nothing _ like this! Every breath was moist and burning in his throat, and his lungs constantly felt like he wasn’t getting enough air in. The atmosphere tasted weird over his tongue, and every so often the wind would change and bring a stronger sulphur smell with it. The smooth black stone the landing pad and stairs were made of was slippery enough that he had to concentrate just to walk. It was a wonder that Ninth Sister’s prosthesis didn’t just go out from under her. Did it have some kind of tread on the bottom? He’d never thought about it until now. 

He suspected the reason he had suddenly started to wonder was because he was trying  _ not _ to think about the other person here. Ninth Sister hadn’t used his name, but she hadn’t needed to. Darth Vader was mentioned quite a few times in the Imperial curriculum, although not as a Sith or even as someone who could use the Force. He was talked about as a military figure from the first moment he appeared in the history modules. Luke could rattle off the facts easily enough - Vader had led the clone battalion on Coruscant against the Jedi Temple after the Jedi began their coup, hunted down other Jedi remnants, taken part in campaigns against Mon Cala and other troublesome planets, and had led a few sparse actions against pirates and rebels in the years since. That was all a far cry from meeting him in person. 

In person, Darth Vader was so much more than he could have imagined. It was hard to even pay attention to his physical characteristics despite how intimidating he was, simply because in the Force he was… everything. His presence was vast, covering everything in the Dark Side like massive wings. This planet was constantly moving with darkness and Vader was meshed so tightly in it that it was hard to say where it ended and he began. The strength of his attention was as choking as the atmosphere. 

Luke pulled himself back behind his shields and hoped they were enough. He looked down at the ground and tried to be nothing, nobody worth noticing, absolutely not a threat. 

After a horribly long moment, Vader’s attention lifted off of him. Luke wasn’t about to let his guard down, but he seemed to be safe for now. 

Darth Vader led the way down a set of stairs which dropped away on one side down cracked and jagged basalt cliffs to a river of real, actual lava. There wasn’t a handrail. Luke supposed if you were careless enough to fall, the theory was that you deserved to die. He didn’t dare reach too strongly for the Dark with a Sith Lord  _ right there _ , but it was so close and present that he only needed to open up to it slightly to get a sense of this place. 

The Force was churning along with the lava, flowing from the depths of the planet with a power that could not be contained. There was no emotion in it, not like the way the Dark Side responded to the instincts and drives of the plants and animals on Arkanis. It simply was. Constant change, primal chaos, strength for the sake of strength that could perhaps be channeled but never restrained… 

Ahead of him, Darth Vader twitched. Luke stopped what he was doing very quickly. 

Their destination was a small complex of single-story buildings set a short distance from the edge of the cliffs. It was built of the same shiny black stone as the much larger spire some way up-river, and in the same blocky architectural style. Two stormtroopers in black armour were standing guard outside of the main door - Luke wondered if the modified design of their armour was to cope with the extreme conditions of this planet. They saluted as Vader went past. 

“I’ll get the students situated first, if that’s alright with you,” Ninth Sister said. 

“Do as you wish,” Vader said, waving a hand dismissively. “It is of no concern to me.” 

“You’ll be heading back home then?”

“There is nothing here that requires my attention,” Vader said, and then he was gone, sweeping back out the door with his cape fluttering behind him. 

Ninth Sister shrugged. “Well, that’s our boss,” she said to Luke and Banee. “Let me show you your rooms, and you can get settled in. Next test is tomorrow.”

“What is it?” Banee asked. 

“Gotta get a lightsaber crystal,” Ninth Sister said, grinning. “That’s a trickier process than it sounds.”

Luke’s breath caught in his throat with a sudden surge of excitement. A lightsaber- a real one. Another step on the road to power, to freedom and revenge and changing the system… 

“Come on then.” 

It wasn’t that far to go - clearly this place was less of a maze than Area Null had been. Ninth Sister pointed out the mess hall and training salle as they went, as well as the trooper barracks. They passed a few more of those ‘Purge Troopers’ in the hallways, as Ninth Sister named them, who nodded and greeted them with murmured ‘sirs’. Luke had a heady moment when he realised he was included in that - that he was being treated as someone who mattered rather than a slave or a prisoner. Of course that didn’t mean he  _ wasn’t _ those things. It was just a facade over reality, but even so it made him feel… better. 

He and Banee had rooms next to one another. “Oh, one last thing,” Ninth Sister said before she left them to it. “We’re not on Arkanis anymore.” She tapped something at her wrist and there was a soft click. It took a moment for Luke to realise where it had come from. Numb and almost unable to believe it, he reached up and took the collar off his neck. 

The two halves sat innocently in his hands. Like this it was so simple and unassuming, almost impossible to imagine that it was an instrument that had controlled his entire life for the past five years. He stared down at it trying to work out what he was feeling. What he was supposed to do. 

“Do what you want with it,” Ninth Sister said, as though reading his mind. Luke checked his shields automatically, but they were solid. She had probably seen this same reaction before, from other soon-to-be-Inquisitors. 

Next to him, Banee snarled and the pieces of her collar floated into the air above her palm. The Dark Side gathered with her hate, and the metal slowly crumpled until it was just a small ball of scrap. She let it drop to the floor, panting with effort. 

“There’s a bin in your room,” Ninth Sister said. Banee flushed and picked it up again. 

“Aren’t you going to do the same?” Banee asked Luke, frowning. “I thought I’d be taking a leaf out of your playbook.”

Luke closed his hand around the two half-circles, watching the thin metal flex. The circuits and contact points on the inner surface were dark with carbon. He was aware of his own hate, deep and dark, but that wasn’t all of it. There was something else, harder to categorise. The collar had been a leash and a scourge, a means of punishment, but also at times it had helped him. Or, the pain it had caused helped him. Reaching the Dark Side that first time, learning to bear agony in service of a greater goal… 

“I’ll decide later,” he said, and tucked it away in his pocket. 

Ninth Sister smiled. Luke had the feeling this had been a test too. Would there ever be any end to them? 

He suspected not until he was the one setting them. 


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dreams and visions and painful ironies.

**4 BBY - Fortress Vader, Mustafar, Atravis Sector, Outer Rim Territories**

Luke’s sleep was unsettled that night, although he wasn’t sure if that was the change of scenery after living in one tightly constrained area for so long, or the strength of the Dark Side all around him. He knew it was all the same Force but he still missed the Dark of Arkanis somehow. It had been more… peaceful was absolutely not the right word. Comprehensible, perhaps? Or maybe it was the pall that Vader cast over everything. 

He rose at the same time he would have on Arkanis, his body used to doing so, then realised when he stepped out into the corridor that Mustafar’s day-night cycle didn’t sync well to Imperial Standard Time. Checking out of the building’s slit windows with their thick panes of transparisteel, he could see it was still at least a few hours before dawn. 

“You’re up early as well,” Banee said, her door hissing shut behind her. 

Luke shrugged. “Can’t go back to sleep now.” They kept their voices low - he wasn’t sure whether they were still forbidden from talking openly. They should both be Inquisitors soon though, and he imagined Inquisitors had to talk to each other at some point. 

“Let’s get breakfast,” Banee suggested. Luke’s stomach grumbled in agreement. 

“Do you suppose they have a different flavour of nutrient paste here?” he asked. 

Banee laughed quietly. “Maybe.”

The corridors weren’t that complicated but even so they almost got lost finding the mess hall. The walls were black rather than white, but Luke kept trying to follow the familiar path he would have taken on Arkanis and catching himself out. Eventually they made it to the wide, long hall full of tables and benches. Given how early it was, there were more people here than Luke would have expected; all Purge Troopers, judging from their armour. 

They had taken their helmets off to eat, and it took him a moment to notice the fact that all their faces looked the same. 

“What the kriff?” he whispered to Banee. 

“I know right,” she said. “They must be clones.”

“Like, Clone Wars clones?” They looked like the holos, sort of. They were older than they should have been, considering how much time had passed. 

Banee shrugged. “I suppose they had to go  _ somewhere _ , afterwards.”

The two of them were starting to get odd looks, standing in the doorway and whispering to each other. Luke led the way over to the serving area, got them both some nutrient paste that looked about identical to the stuff at Area Null, and found a place to sit down. 

“Aren’t you going to put in a flavour packet?” one of the clones asked as they were about to start eating. 

Luke gave him a blank look, but something about it must have alarmed the man because he looked away, flinching, and said, “Forget I said anything sir.”

“No, I… there are flavour packets?” Luke said, not sure what he’d done to cause that reaction. 

The clone still didn’t exactly  _ look _ at him, but he said, “Yessir. Behind the hatch next to the dispensing nozzle.”

Luke got up to investigate, and found that the hatch slid upwards easily. Inside were a dozen small shelves piled with tiny foil squares. Picking one up, he found it was labelled ‘Lunch - Brekkabeet soup’. Another; ‘Breakfast - Eggs and Nerf Bacon’. The idea of actually getting to  _ taste _ food again was almost too much. He had to swallow past a sudden surge of emotion. He grabbed one of everything and brought it back to the table.

“ _ Look _ at this,” he said. He didn’t care that this was getting them more odd looks, he was too happy. He ripped one of the breakfast packets open, stirred it in and took a mouthful. He barely remembered if the flavours matched up to his memories of them - after so long of plain paste they burst intensely over his tongue. He tried to take his time and savour, but the bowl was gone in minutes. 

This place was so much better than Arkanis.

\----

“Pick a crystal,” Ninth Sister said. After coming to find them back in their rooms at a more sensible local hour, she had brought them to this small room packed  _ full  _ of lightsaber hilts in all sizes and designs. There was only one place they could have come from - remnants of the Jedi Order, from dead Generals and Commanders across the galaxy. 

“How are we meant to choose?” Luke asked. He could sense the crystals inside the hilts, an odd hum in the back of his mind. They were harmonising, singing together almost. There was a beauty to it, but also a feeling of deep sadness. 

“Find one that calls to you.” 

Ninth Sister appeared content to watch them, and there didn’t seem to be any rush. Luke reached for the Force and let his awareness spill out to encompass the space. The song of the crystals became louder and more present, humming back to him. They felt strange, like sharp bright embers, as though they might cut him if he reached out and touched. It didn’t feel like any of them were calling him in particular - they were just singing because that was what they did, what they were. 

Luke went closer to the shelves, passing his hand above lightsaber after lightsaber, hoping he could get a better idea that way. Reaching with the Dark each crystal in turn chimed a discordant note back to him, breaking its harmony. The shrieks were deeply unpleasant, a spike of mental pain every time. 

“I’m not sure any of them are calling to me,” he said. 

“Perhaps call is the wrong word,” Ninth Sister said. “Find the one that responds the most.”

They were all so loud. Luke winced, but kept on searching. The echoes of pain were doubled by the fact that Banee was doing this at the same time. He concentrated, letting the pain fuel the Dark Side rather than distracting him. The loudest kyber… 

His hand stopped, jerking downwards onto a lightsaber hilt. The crystal inside screamed at his tough, a high-pitched, shrill static that set his teeth on edge. He picked it up, feeling it burning in his palm, phantom heat. 

“That’ll do fine,” Ninth Sister said. 

“Is that it?” Banee asked. She had already managed to find her kyber. 

“Now you have to make the kyber your own. You have to break it to your will, make it bleed the true red of the Dark Side.”

“How?” Luke asked. 

“The same way you bend the Force to your will,” Ninth Sister said. “With pain, hate and rage.”

\----

They went back to their rooms alone to try and bleed their crystals. Ninth Sister told them it could be a long process, although how long depended on a lot of different factors that nobody really understood. There wasn’t a timetable, and they could take breaks to gather their strength, eat and sleep without fearing punishment for slacking off. The point was to learn to understand the kyber, connect with it, and then twist it to their command. 

Luke wasn’t sure how he felt about this. The crystal wasn’t sentient, it didn’t have a mind that he understood, but it wasn’t an ordinary lump of inorganic matter either. It was part of the Force, as all things were, but  _ more _ than most. It wasn’t drawing the Dark Side to it, and in fact there seemed to be an absence in the Dark directly around it. A little bubble of bright light, painful light. It felt like sunlight against skin and with that same sunburn radiation behind it. Luke didn’t know the feel of the ‘Light Side’ the Jedi had allegedly used, but maybe this was it. 

The kyber was as comfortable in its light bubble as Luke was comfortable in the Dark. Its song came from there, and it seemed a shame to potentially spoil that. He supposed maybe it would sing just as sweetly and sadly in the Dark though once it switched over. 

Pain, hate and rage, Ninth Sister said. Luke had enough memories of that kind and more to spare. He spent some examining the kyber crystal, feeling out its nature, before he thought he understood enough of it to share his emotions with it. Finally, he sat with the crystal cupped in his palms, breathed deeply, and drew on the Dark Side. 

The crystal resisted. It pulsed bright and painful in his hands, but he fed that pain back round into the Dark and pushed onwards. He reached for his anger, remembering every injustice of the past five years and the goal he was aiming for, the power to right those wrongs. He fed it his determination, solid as durasteel, sharp as the point of a lightsaber. He showed it the bodies of those who had died along the way and his guilt and hopeless sorrow, the pain clawing at his heart. Zar and his sacrifice. 

The crystal screamed, the Light of it vibrating, and then it reached back. 

Luke wasn’t sitting in a room on Mustafar anymore. This was Tatooine, sky bright and blue and vast with the glow of the suns high above. Golden sand reached around him to the horizon, broken only by the sandstone buttes and spires at the edge of the Jundland wastes. He knew where he was. The homestead… Uncle Owen and Aunt Beru… his  _ home _ was only a few miles distant. 

Somehow he knew they were still alive. He knew he could see them again. 

Luke took off running, his feet sinking into the shifting sand. He’d almost forgotten how much harder it was to move over the dunes. It was hot, but dry compared to Mustafar. He could breathe easily. As he passed the first vaporator the sand was replaced by hard packed earth and he could see the small dome of the above-ground entrance in the distance over the flat ground. He sped up. 

Luke skidded to a stop next to the rim of the courtyard, looking around desperately. Where were they? Were they here? Were they safe? A door hissed open behind him and he whirled around. Uncle Owen glared out of the doorway, his blaster rifle in his hands. 

“Who are you?” he demanded. “What do you want here?”

Luke was momentarily struck speechless. Hope twisted his heart, joined by a sudden uncomfortable fear. “Uncle Owen… it’s me!”

None of the suspicion left his Uncle’s eyes. 

“Don’t you recognise me?” Luke asked? “It’s me… Luke.”

“Luke is dead,” Uncle Owen said. “You’re not him. I don’t know what you are, you yellow-eyed, nameless Sithspawn. Get out of here.”

Luke couldn’t move. He couldn’t say anything. He searched for any slight spark of recognition in his Uncle’s eyes and found nothing. Did he really look so different? 

There was something in his hand. A solid weight of metal. When he looked down, he found he was holding the hilt of a lightsaber with the same half-circle guard of the Inquisitorius. The red blade snapped on, though he hadn’t activated it. 

“You’re not welcome here, child thief,” Uncle Owen said, raising his rifle. 

_ I’m not, _ Luke wanted to protest.  _ I’d never _ . Only how did he know what the Inquisitorius would ask of him? They took children. They were slavers. 

Owen’s rifle fired. Luke’s body moved without thinking, bringing the lightsaber up to block the bolt and then lunging forwards towards the enemy. Red flashed down. 

“No!” 

Luke pulled himself out of the vision in a surge of panicked energy. He panted heavily as he looked wildly around. He was back in his room, kyber crystal clutched tightly in his hands. When he opened his fingers, he saw the edges of it had cut into his palms, turning his skin sticky and red with his own blood. 

Luke gradually calmed down. “That’s not how it would happen,” he said, glaring at the kyber. “Uncle Owen would know it was me. I would never do anything to hurt him.” Not that he would ever be in a position to find out. His guardians were long gone, forever beyond his reach. He would never see them again. 

The crystal in his hands remained stubbornly pale green. 

He would have to keep trying, but Luke didn’t feel up to doing so straight away. When he glanced at the chrono, he was surprised to see how much time had passed. It was getting late. He would have to grab something to eat, get some rest, and then in the morning… 

In the morning he would show that kriffing crystal.

\----

Luke didn’t dream about the stars that night, or of Leia. At first his dreams were normal dreams, a series of vague images of Area Null that drifted in the illogical way of unconsciousness. There was a test coming up, but he’d lost the datapad of reading material the guard-droid had given him and the other students had hidden it somewhere… Eventually he burst through a door and found himself someplace new. 

The sky was boiling with storm-clouds, thick dark grey that would occasionally split apart long enough to reveal the night sky. Thunder rumbled from time to time, accompanied by the crack of lightning lancing downwards to hit the ocean. The water was black and thick in front of him. Luke was standing on an outcropping of basalt, rugged and uneven in the way of a congealed lava-flow. He was surrounded on every side by this landscape of chaos. 

Where was he? This wasn’t like any place Luke had been, not that he  _ had _ been very many places. 

He seemed to be alone. 

Luke crouched down and stuck a hand in the water lapping against the base of the stone. It wasn’t water, but thick black oil that stuck to his skin unpleasantly - he jerked his hand back and felt resistance, as though the ocean was trying to suck him in. There was no way he was getting into that, even if he’d known how to swim. Standing back up and looking around again though, it didn’t seem like there was anywhere for him to go. 

The Force was roaring here, that same fierce, natural power from Mustafar. This was a far cry away from that planet, but the Dark Side was the same. Reaching out a little he felt it tugging at him like hurricane winds, ready to sweep him off his feet if he wasn’t careful. This place wasn’t tinged with predatory instincts like Arkanis, but it would devour him all the same. 

Luke scanned the horizon. Were there other outcroppings of rock like this? Anything, aside from the oil and the storm?

He almost didn’t spot the hint of red and white in the distance on his first pass, but movement in the corner of his eye had him looking back round. There was something… a figure. It hovered in midair, a speck against the clouds. It was moving towards him. 

The Dark Side shivered. The currents in it moved, refocused. Order came from chaos as the figure walked closer, trailed by the power of the storm. 

Luke looked around desperately for somewhere to hide, sudden fear a cold pit in his stomach. He didn’t want to be seen by that thing - and it knew somehow that he was here. Not exactly where he was, or what he was, but it was clearly searching. 

There weren’t many options. Luke steeled himself and started to lower himself down off the edge of the outcropping, gripping the rough stone. The oil came up over his boots, sliding inside his trousers as he kept going. His feet scrabbled to keep a purchase on the rock below the surface of the thrashing waves, but there were currents in the oil that made it difficult. Pausing halfway, cold and sticky liquid up to his waist, Luke took measured breaths and wondered if this was really such a good idea. Maybe nothing bad would happen if the being saw him? It was just a dream, right? 

Only his lucid dreams had never been ‘just’ anything. 

Luke lowered himself further, down until his weight was taken fully by the buoyancy of the oil and he was only just keeping himself anchored to the pillar of basalt. Oil lapped at his wrists and neck, almost  _ writhing  _ against his skin. He gagged, the touch making him nauseous. He felt hidden though, and although the waves kept pulling at him they weren’t strong enough to drag him away. 

The heavy weight of a searching presence was still approaching. There was a weird smell in the air, not quite cooking meat. Something burning. He pressed tighter to the rock, trying to be as small and unnoticeable as possible. 

Dim red light shone from on top of the pillar. Luke barely breathed. He caught a glimpse of the figure moving around up there. Red-black energy made up its head and body and part of its limbs, but most of its arms and legs were a blank, featureless white. The smell was even stronger now, along with a noise like crackling flames just audible over the wind and thunder. Cinders and ash fell from it with every step and were dashed to the winds.

The thing circled round, but it didn’t seem to see him. It wasn’t looking far enough down. Then it began to move away again, walking on the air. On its shoulder, a little crack opened up with a flicker of blue light amongst the black and red spirals. Wriggling like an insect emerging from its cocoon, a small winged thing took to the air. Without looking round, a tendril of dark shadow curled out from the being and swatted the insect out of existence. 

Then it was gone. 

Luke started to breathe again properly. Gradually and fighting against the pull of the oil the whole time, he climbed back up the pillar and flopped onto his belly at the top. 

He wanted to wake up now.

\----

Darth Vader’s body might be stuck in a bacta tank, but his mind roamed free. Mustafar was the planet of his rebirth, where the last remnant of Anakin Skywalker had perished in cleansing fire, and he rose purified from the ashes of all that came before. This world was his domain, as was the wellspring of the Dark that screamed in the depths of the magma below his citadel. It was also the place of his former Master’s final betrayal, where Kenobi had taken  _ everything _ from him. His limbs. His wife. His unborn child. 

Kenobi was still out there, somewhere. Hiding from him. It was an endless source of frustration that all leads on his whereabouts had long gone dead and cold. Not even a bounty of thirty million credits had turned up evidence of his location. All the meditation in the world had not revealed the answer. 

Vader could not scream through the ruin of his throat, but he had released his rage on many officers, troopers, bounty hunters and inanimate objects over the years. His Master the Emperor counselled patience, told him to use this frustration to fuel his power in the Dark Side. Lord Sidious had intimated many times that if only he were a better Sith he would have been able to locate Kenobi by now. 

_ Just as  _ you  _ have been able to locate him? _ Vader wanted to snarl. He did not. He did not wish to invite his Master’s punishment, and in any case Sidious did not truly  _ care _ about Kenobi the way Vader did. 

It sometimes seemed to him that the hunt for Kenobi was the only thing he had left to strive for. The Empire was pacified, for the most part. Pirates and scattered, pitiful Rebel cells were beneath him, they roused no true emotion in his heart. He had successfully hunted and destroyed most of the other remaining Jedi. The great work of building the Empire was almost done. 

Sidious did not think so. He still had his plots, his machinations, but Vader had long ago grown tired of them. If his Master wished to lead him around like an Akk on a chain there was little point in fighting it. 

Where was Kenobi? Where was Ahsoka? They would be together, he was sure of it. 

They should be together with  _ him _ . 

Or dead. 

Outside Vader’s fortress the lava river flowed, inexorable and unstoppable. The Dark Side flowed with it, but once again Vader sensed a change in its eddies and currents. He had been unable to find the source of this change. He had considered the two new Inquisitorial apprentices, but they were simply more of the same. More broken younglings reeking of pain and hate. He cared even less about them than he did most things. 

The alteration in the Dark did not feel dangerous. It was merely strange. He focused some small spark of his attention towards it, but aside from that it was not his priority. 

His only priority remained finding Obi-wan Kenobi.

\----

Luke glared at his kyber crystal. He was going to get it right this time. He wouldn’t be put off by whatever new vision the crystal might try to show him. What did it know anyway? It was just a lump of rock. 

Pressing it between his palms, he focused once more on the Dark Side and all of the emotions Ninth Sister said he needed. Its power roared up inside of him and he channeled it into the crystal, feeling the Light writhe beneath his touch and his will. Once again the world shivered and changed - he felt it properly this time when it brought him into a vision, enough to know straight away what was happening. 

He was in a massive hall draped in banners bearing the Imperial seal, standing at the bottom of a dais. There was a throne at the top of the steps, with a cloaked man sitting in it. From this angle Luke could see into the shadows of his hood, see the piercing yellow eyes within, gaze burning into him. He knew at once who this was.

“My Emperor,” he said, taking a knee. He’d been taught how an Inquisitor should bow, just as he’d been taught the right way to address a Grand Moff or a Senator and a whole bunch of other manners he’d thought boring at the time. Luke wasn’t sure how much his own actions affected what the kyber wanted to show him, but he figured it might be good practise. He hadn’t really thought about that fact that as an Inquisitor, he was bound to meet the Emperor at some point, given he was a Sith Lord. 

He’d imagined  _ killing  _ him, but that was still a fantasy for now, and you weren’t expected to be polite to someone you were murdering. 

The Emperor chuckled. There was a sharp, chill edge to it. “Rise, my boy,” he said. “I see you are finally ready.”

“Ready and eager, Master,” The words came from outside of him, but his mouth spoke them. Luke thought he could have resisted it, replaced it with what he wanted to say, but he didn’t have any context for this. He didn’t know where the kyber was going with this. 

“Ah,” the Emperor said, to someone over Luke’s shoulder. “You’ve decided to join us Lord Vader.” 

Luke turned round, expecting to feel afraid, but instead there was an alien confidence with an almost sadistic edge to it. Was this meant to be the future? Something that was  _ going _ to happen, or something that just  _ could _ happen? It helped that he couldn’t feel the baleful presence of either Sith in the Force; it grounded him, kept on reminding him that none of this was real. 

“He has turned you against me young one,” Darth Vader said. The blank glass eyes of his helmet bored into Luke’s. “He has lied to you, as he lied to me.” Luke had no idea what he meant.  _ Was _ this the future then? He felt that if it was conjured up from his own mind it should make more sense to him. 

Once again Luke felt his mouth move and the vision spoke through him. “It is time for me to take my place at my true Master’s side.” A red lightsaber ignited in his hand - Luke hadn’t been aware he was holding it - and then he was jumping forwards in a great Force-assisted leap and bringing it down towards Lord Vader’s head. 

The fight was like a dream, in that he was floating and not in control of any of it. He couldn’t fight like this -  _ not yet _ , he told himself. Perhaps one day. Occasionally the Emperor urged him on, but Vader said nothing more. He was clearly very good with a saber but it felt like he was fighting oddly defensively. It wasn’t how Luke would have expected a Sith to fight. 

In the end, Luke’s blade flicked past Vader’s guard and took his hand off at the wrist, lightsaber flying with it. Wires and metal sparked from the wound - a prosthetic, like Ninth Sister’s. Luke had never dared to ask how she’d lost her hand, and it wasn’t like he had any right to know anyway, but now he wondered if it was an occupational hazard for Force-sensitives. 

Vader fell back, and Luke stood over him with his lightsaber pointed at his throat. It felt horribly familiar. He thought of the rodian girl and her death - he wanted to shy away from the picture the crystal was painting but he couldn’t. It wouldn’t let him. 

“Do it,” Darth Sidious commanded. 

Vision-Luke did. Vader’s helmeted head rolled across the floor, his body falling back slack in death. Then Luke turned and knelt once again at the foot of the dais. 

“Well done,” the Emperor said. “Rise, my new Apprentice.”

The vision faded of its own accord this time, rather than Luke having to wrench himself out of it. He looked down at the pale crystal in his hands. It felt almost expectant. Obviously it was showing him these things for a reason, so… he tried to work out what that reason was. The first vision made sense - the crystal was trying to say that his family would be ashamed of what he had become. As if he’d had a choice. As if he hadn’t been stolen from them. Perhaps the kyber agreed he should have rather died. 

He didn’t agree with that. 

So what about this second scene? If it wanted to warn him about a possible future it had done a poor job. 

“I’m not sure how you expect me to react to that,” he told it. “Yes, I want to become a Sith Lord, yes I want power, but I want it to fix things for the galaxy. To make things better. Don’t you want to help me with that?”

He felt the kyber waver. It felt… tired, for want of a better word. 

“I know I’m going to have to kill Darth Vader to do it. That’s how it works. And then I’ll have to take on the Emperor after that, but… they’re both terrible people! They’re in charge of the Empire and they haven’t done anything to make things better!” He thought about that. “Well, maybe cutting down on slavery a little bit,” he allowed. “Ending the Clone War, and the corrupt Republic. But things could be so much better! I  _ need _ to make things better.”

Zar couldn’t have died for nothing. 

Once again, the energy of the Light gathered around the kyber, and Luke prepared himself for another vision. 

This time he was standing on a track in… it had to be a forest. Luke had seen pictures, he’d seen the trees in the distance on Arkanis and felt them in the Force, but he’d never actually been in amongst them. He took a deep breath in and got a very faint whiff of something he had never smelled before. Sharp and warm and… green? It was real enough for that. He grinned, wide and uncontrollable. 

“I’m not sure what kind of argument this is, but I like it already,” he said. 

A faint tugging sensation in his chest led him up the rough path and through a clearing where he caught a glimpse of a  _ mountain _ , tall and sharp and proud against a rich blue sky, the rock covered white in places. For a moment he couldn’t imagine what that was - white sand? Then he realised it was  _ snow _ , and laughed out loud. Was the crystal trying to suggest he would get to see all these places only if he refused to become an Inquisitor? Obviously that wasn’t going to work. He would be hunted down and killed, not allowed to go off on holiday to such a beautiful planet as this. 

He kept on going. There was a small building ahead, a log cabin with its roof overhanging a wide veranda. Someone was sitting in a chair there, carving a small piece of wood. Curious, Luke approached him. The man felt… familiar, in some half-forgotten way. He didn’t understand how that could be though. 

The man looked up when he heard him coming, and both the wood and his carving knife dropped from suddenly shaking hands. “Luke?” he said. “Luke is that you?”

Luke didn’t say anything. He wasn’t sure if that was the vision, or simply that he didn’t know what to say. 

The man pushed himself to his feet and took a few shaky steps forwards, then grabbed Luke by the shoulders and pulled him into a hug. Luke thought he could hear him crying. He was, frankly, baffled. Who was this? How did he know him? Why did he have such an extreme reaction to seeing him again? 

Finally the man let him go. Tears glittered in his kind blue eyes, and his smile was warm and heart-felt. “You’re safe,” he said, still clutching Luke’s shoulder. “You survived. Everyone will be so glad you’ve returned to us.”

“Everyone?” Luke asked, still deeply confused. 

The man gestured behind him; Luke turned round to see a small group of people, none of whom he recognised. There was a tall togruta woman with two lightsaber hilts at her hips; a young human girl about Luke’s height and age, with brown hair and eyes; and an older human man in blue and white armour. Luke abruptly realised that  _ his  _ face was familiar at least - the same face as the Purge Troopers here on Mustafar. A clone? A little way behind that trio was an older human couple holding hands, both with dark hair and eyes, the same dark skin as the clone. The man had a neat goatee, and they both wore finely tailored clothes. He had no idea who any of these people were, but they were all looking at him with fondness and pleasure. 

“Everything will be alright now,” the old man said. “You’re safe here with us.”

Then it all rippled and faded away again before Luke had a chance to ask who in the Sith Hells any of them  _ were _ . 

He glared at the kyber crystal. “Are you just trying to make me give up by confusing me now?” he demanded, feeling increasingly foolish for arguing with a rock. “No. No more of this.”

Luke took a few deep breaths in and out, putting aside his confusion. That wasn’t an emotion that would help him any here. This was a kind of test of wills, and if his own determination had to be stronger than stone itself, then so be it. He would never get what he wanted without that kind of strength. He would never help anyone, save anyone, make things better, unless he  _ wanted _ it, deeply. He focused on the crystal again, pouring every part of himself down towards it spiralling inwards, the same pain and rage and desire as before. The sense of resistance started to buckle. Luke didn’t let up. The kyber’s song was a high-pitched wail, a shriek in his ears, but he refused to allow it to distract him. It  _ would _ obey him. It  _ would _ be his. 

Something shattered under his hands. The shriek became a low rumbling scream, an animal cry. 

Luke let the crystal drop onto his bedspread. It was a deep blood red. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The poor kyber crystal doesn't understand why none of this is working - not its fault Luke has no context for anything!


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Luke faces his final test, Vader takes a second look, and first missions are given.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content warnings for mutilation.

**4 BBY - Inquisitorius Complex, Mustafar, Atravis Sector, Outer Rim Territories**

Bleeding a kyber crystal was just the start. Ninth Sister gave Luke and Banee both Inquisitor-style lightsaber hilts, and then their training began all over again. A real lightsaber wasn’t like a training saber at all. It felt  _ alive _ in his hand, catching and focusing his emotions just like the Force itself did. Its song had become a scream, but it wasn’t discordant. It was still music, but the kind of music that came from a heart pumping, the slap of running feet on the ground, the breath in and out of aching lungs. Music that made you want to get up and move,  _ fight _ . 

The more Luke connected with the crystal, the lighter the blade became. It was never heavy, but there was a stronger resistance than the training saber, a way in which it dragged against the air. When two real lightsabers came together they  _ bit _ , a snarl of competing energies that threw off small wisps of plasma if allowed to continue for any length of time. It was a whole new experience wielding this lightsaber, and it took a few days for Luke to really get the hang of it. 

There was also the fact that the hilt could project  _ two _ blades at a time. And the whole spinning thing. At least Ninth Sister didn’t seem to expect him to hurt Banee now. Normal sparring was enough.

After two weeks, Ninth Sister told them they were ready. 

“Ready for what?” Luke asked. 

“For the final test,” she said. “After that, you’ll join the ranks of the Imperial Inquisitorius.”

\----

Nervous anticipation had Luke almost vibrating out of his skin on the short speeder drive over to Fortress Vader. The notched spire loomed proud and oppressive over them. Darth Vader’s weight in the Force pressed against his shields more strongly the closer they got. It wasn’t just the Sith that Luke sensed either. The tower itself was pulling the Dark Side to it as naturally as gravity pulls water downhill. Luke felt thick shadows, a faint roar like constant static, something vast poised under pressure and waiting to be released. In its own way it was mesmerising. He couldn’t take his eyes off it. After what had happened on Arkanis though, he wasn’t going to let himself be drawn in for fear of never getting out. 

He reached for Banee’s mind next to him for reassurance, just wanting to touch something familiar. She was afraid and determined and focused, and it helped to synchronise his thoughts to hers. This would be so much worse without her here - that was just one of the reasons Ninth Sister was wrong about having friends.

Ninth Sister brought the speeder up over the river of laver that dived below the fortress and set them down on a landing pad that jutted out over the stream like the prow of a ship. Then she led them inside. The style of architecture was just the same as the Inquisitorius complex, but not the same as Area Null. Did that mean anything? The Force seemed to be drawn to this place, but was that the building, or the planet? How much variation was there in Imperial military buildings? Were they all made with the Dark Side in mind?

They were moving ever closer towards the seething presence of Darth Vader. Luke was sure he knew why, and he  _ had  _ to think about other things to control his fear. They couldn’t possibly be expected to defeat the Sith Lord so he guessed they just had to put up a good enough fight, but what would the cost of that be? 

Ninth Sister brought them to a large circular room that was bare of decorations or furnishings. Darth Vader was already waiting for them, his lightsaber out but not ignited. Ninth Sister gave him a terse nod, then patted Banee on the shoulder. Luke felt faintly sick. What if the Sith decided Banee wasn’t worthy? What if Luke had to watch her die here? Zar was already gone, he couldn’t lose another friend.

“Good luck,” Ninth Sister said. 

Banee bared her teeth. “I don’t need luck.” She unclipped her lightsaber from her belt, ignited its twin blades, and gave it a few twirls to settle it into her hand. Her worry had been subsumed into the Dark Side, and she felt powerful and strong. A little of the tension left Luke. He hoped he was worrying for nothing. Ninth Sister thought they were ready. He hadn’t sensed anything from her to suggest she expected this to end badly.

Banee approached Vader with caution. The Sith hadn’t even bothered to turn on his own saber yet, although the focus of his attention in the Force pivoted to follow Banee’s movement. She started to circle him, then darted forwards into an attack. 

Vader’s saber was on and rising to block before she’d closed half the distance. Vader barely moved as she threw herself at him with all her strength. Banee hammered down blows with all her power in the Force behind them, but much as she tried, Vader’s defence was impeccable. It didn’t even look like he was trying hard. 

Then with surprising swiftness, he switched onto the attack. If Banee had been a hammer then Vader was the crushing strength of a black hole. Luke could  _ feel  _ the burn in her muscles as she struggled to parry him and turn that deadly power aside. She leapt backwards trying to get some space, setting her blade spinning. It didn’t deter Vader. He stalked across the room towards her with the Force billowing after him like his cape. He seemed to draw all of the Dark to him - it felt impossible to try and fight. Luke sensed fear starting to filter back into Banee’s mind, leaching away the strength of her determination, sapping her confidence. When she attacked again it was with an edge of desperation. 

Vader batted her blade away contemptuously. Glowing red plasma flickered, and Banee screamed. 

She fell to her knees, lightsaber tumbling away, clutching at the side of her head. Something meaty slapped onto the floor. One of her lekku, smoulding where it had been severed. 

Rage surged like an explosion. Luke almost started forwards right then and there, a sudden murderous anger burning in his chest and wanting  _ out _ , wanting to do something, to get revenge, to make this Sith hurt like his friend was hurting. Banee’s pain echoed inside his mind with a deep, stabbing feeling of  _ loss _ . The kyber wrapped in metal in his hand screamed silently along with him. The only thing that stopped Luke was Ninth Sister’s hand grabbing the back of his collar. 

“Patience,” she said, with a wry smile. 

“Acceptable,” Vader said, and strode away back to the centre of the room again, leaving Banee crouched on the floor with her jaw clenched tight against sobs of pain. 

Ninth Sister let go of Luke. 

For the first time Luke actually wanted to kill. There was a stranger standing in front of him, a Sith, a symbol and architect of all the pain and suffering and cruelty that had been inflicted on him since he’d been stolen from his home, since his Aunt and Uncle had been killed. Here was someone he could blame for that. Someone who really was responsible and not just another cog in the Imperial machine. A real enemy -  _ his _ real enemy. 

The Dark Side surged forwards with him, bringing all the roaring fury of sandstorm winds. It was inside of him, filling every part of him, taking his emotions and spilling them out as power into the air. It was a sharp-toothed hurricane that would strip flesh from bones, fill suffocating lungs, draw every scrap of moisture and life from those too foolish to get out of its way. 

Luke wasn’t thinking, was barely aware that he was indeed attacking. He was made of nothing but white-hot instinct beyond conscious control. He was the Force and he was Death. 

Only the target that stood in front of him did not die. The storm inside it met Luke’s own and pushed back. Darth Vader was as solid as durasteel, as Tatooine’s deep granite bones. Like a krayt dragon fully rousing from half-slumber, Luke sensed something waking up inside him. He had been powerful before, but this was… something even greater. 

They moved together back and forth across the space of the room in a whirlwind, moving smoothly from attack to defence and back again. Luke’s burst of rage was starting to tire, and some conscious thought returned. Vader was clearly used to long fighting - he did not falter in the slightest, and in fact it seemed that the longer this went on the better he did. Luke blocked and parried and searched for an opening that wasn’t there. 

Vader found an opening. 

Luke saw it coming at the last moment, but not quickly enough to fully dodge. Vader’s lightsaber carved into the curved rim of Luke’s own and ripped it from his hand - if he hadn’t let go he would have lost fingers. Luke darted backwards away from more strikes meant to maim, frustration and anger curdling into a deep hate. 

How dare the Sith defy justice, defy the death he deserved? How dare he do this to Luke, to Banee, to all the children that had come before them? He had power - why didn’t he use it to help people? Why didn’t he make things better instead of allowing all the evils of the Empire to continue? The hate burned inside him, so much Luke thought he could barely contain it. 

He didn’t have a weapon. All he had was his hate, and it would have to do. He gathered it up and  _ shoved  _ it out towards Vader, not really hoping to achieve anything but with no other option. 

Jagged blue lightning erupted from the tips of his outstretched fingers. 

It only lasted for a brief moment, and most of it caught on the blade of Vader’s lightsaber, crackling harmlessly along its length. Some of the energy slipped past though and hit the Sith square in the chest. Surprise rang out in the Force as sudden, sharp and resounding as a struck bell. Luke had a brief moment of vindication before Vader took a step forward and lashed out. 

His lightsaber took off Luke’s still-outstretched hand at the wrist. 

Luke stumbled backwards, looking down at the empty space with shock. It took a few long moments for the pain to hit, and then he nearly fell over. It was agony, and this deep sense of emptiness where flesh and bone should be but wasn’t. 

He tried not to move the injured limb too much and looked around for his lightsaber. He didn’t know what he had just done, but he had actually managed to land a blow on Darth Vader. The Sith might decide he preferred revenge to a living Inquisitor who could be a threat. 

His saber was lying nearby, but the hilt was too damaged to be functional. Luke looked up again - Vader stood with his attention fixed on him, but making no further move to attack. 

“Impressive,” the Sith said, his baritone a deep rumble despite an odd half-hitch in the pace of his rasping breathing. Luke caught a brief flash of his emotions - a sort of wary curiosity and deep interest that Luke wasn’t sure he liked having pointed his way. Vader’s head turned. “Ninth Sister?” 

Luke realised that Ninth Sister was afraid. “I didn’t teach him that Lord Vader,” she said. “I don’t know how.”

“Where did you learn this ability, young one?” Vader demanded. 

“Nowhere,” Luke said, having to force the words out past the pain. “I just… did it.”

“Most impressive. You shall serve the Empire well.”

Luke relaxed slightly. There was still an ember of hate in his heart, but mostly he just felt worn out, tired, and in pain. He supposed now he would match Ninth Sister and - if his vision was to be believed - Lord Vader himself. 

“You are dismissed, Fifteenth Brother, and you, Fifteenth Sister. However,” he pointed his lightsaber towards Luke. “I shall be watching you.”

\----

Darth Vader’s first experience as a Sith on Mustafar had been to learn the lesson of loss. The planet had not been the one to take from him, yet it was here that Padme had died, the promise of his child had died, and his former Master had mutilated and betrayed him. Hope had been lost. The perfect future, being together with his family in this new and better Empire - had been lost. It bound him to this place and the Dark Side nexus here with sacrifice, as surely as the ash of his own flesh and bone was now one with the lava that had devoured his severed limbs. 

The Inquisitors were not his apprentices. He owed them nothing. He taught them enough that they would not outright embarrass him, but little more. His one concession to their education was to ensure that they also knew the lesson of loss as intimately as he did. This, he felt, was a mercy. It was better than being caught unaware by it later on, when it would be all the more painful for it. 

Darth Vader had no particular emotions or expectations about teaching this to the two latest recruits. Well, perhaps he would take some small, vicious satisfaction in their pain which would still be only a fraction of his own, but no more. 

He had to admit that the twi’lek was a decent swordswoman and reasonably strong in the Dark Side, but it still did not take him long to defeat her. Severing her lek low enough that it would not cause her permanent harm was the only part of the duel that was mildly taxing for him. As she sank to her knees with her agony flaring off into the Force however, Vader felt a sudden surge in the Dark Side. It was coming from the human boy. 

There was something familiar about it. Vader left the girl and turned his attention to the other youngling. Yes… this felt like the elusive presence he had almost stopped bothering to search for. This child  _ had _ been the source of the disturbance in the Force that had altered the currents of the nexus. Most curious. 

The boy was glaring at him with naked hate in his eyes. His intent was clear even through his shields - he wanted to see Vader dead. 

The Sith Lord felt, for the first time in a long time, a slight stirring of amusement. The boy was powerful, that was obvious, but he was merely an Inquisitorial apprentice. His arrogance would betray him - or perhaps it was not arrogance, but false confidence born from the riptide pull of the Dark Side. In the end it did not matter. He would fail. 

The youngling attacked him and brought the Dark Side with him fierce and furious as desert storms. Vader had a sudden reminder of his old, dead life. Dueling Ventress, or Dooku, Sith worth the name, snarling his own defiance in the Light as they attempted to overwhelm him with the Dark. Even so this wildness was not quite like them. Ventress had been sharp and subtle as a vibroblade to the back under cover of night, Dooku a calm and collected magnetic pull. With the benefit of his own Sith experience, Vader could now see that both had been trained to use their anger rather than let it fully control them. This boy was lost to his rage, though his power more than made up for any lack of control. 

That power… it was formidable. Vader was actually having to put some effort into this fight, and he found it strangely refreshing. When had he last had a challenge? No Jedi or Inquisitor had been - not that any of the Inquisitors who  _ might be _ wanted to take him on these days - and his Master had better things to do than spar. This… he was enjoying this. 

The Force raged around them, strength against strength. Vader poured more and more of himself into the Dark Side - at this point habit made it easy to draw on formless anger without target or cause. There was none who could stand against him, none who could match him. He was death incarnate. 

The boy began to tire. His untrained strength, fiercely impressive though it was, had battered against Vader’s own power and he had worn himself out. An opening came, and with predatory swiftness Vader took advantage of it. Stimulating as this had been, it was no mere spar but a test and a lesson. 

Somehow the boy managed to move in time to avoid losing anything aside from his lightsaber, but that was enough. On the back foot, he did his best to dodge Vader’s now careful, targeted blows. Vader sensed no desperation from him, but rather a refusal to accept that he had lost. He wanted deeply to continue fighting, to hurt and kill. His desires were irrelevant. Vader was the Sith here, and events bowed to  _ his  _ will. 

The Dark Side gathered. The boy shoved a hand forwards - for the briefest second Vader expected a Force push and hardened his defences against it - then lightning sparked from his fingertips. 

Behind the mask, Vader’s eyes went wide. He felt true and genuine surprise - again for the first time in years. The blast was not well aimed and most of it earthed itself on his lightsaber, but enough got through to flood him with sudden pain. The sensation was familiar. 

For a moment Vader was back kneeling before his Master, suffering the consequences of his displeasure. 

It was short-lived. Snarling, Vader whipped his lightsaber in a clean arc that removed the offending youngling’s hand at the wrist. Rage lashed against the bonds of Vader’s self-control thinking this a poor revenge, but he resisted the urge to go further. This boy… this Inquisitor… was important. The Force sang with it. Even with sparks of pain still running through his body, aftershocks of Force lightning and minor damage to his suit, it was impossible to ignore. 

Looking down at the mingled fear and hate on the boy’s face, Vader thought there was something familiar about it, though he couldn’t place it. Perhaps… but no. Vader still saw echoes of Padme in every short, dark-haired young woman he came across - seeing some similarity in this boy was just another useless wish. Her ghost would not let him forget. 

“Impressive,” he said. The use of Force lightning did beg the question of where he had learned that particular trick. There was only one obvious source. “Ninth Sister?” he said, his words a threat that he knew she would understand. 

“I didn’t teach him that Lord Vader,” Ninth Sister said. “I don’t know how.” He did not sense any deceit from her. The question remained. 

“Where did you learn this ability, young one?” he demanded of the boy. 

“Nowhere.” The words were sharp, bitten off. He was in much pain, although Vader sensed he was not allowing it to master him. That was good. “I just… did it.”

“Most impressive,” Vader said. It was clear this boy had been sent to the Sith by the will of the Force. He would be a powerful tool. One Vader had already decided Darth Sidious did not need to know about. “You shall serve the Empire well. You are dismissed, Fifteenth Brother, Fifteenth Sister. However I shall be watching you.” 

Inquisitors were not apprentices. Vader had never desired to take another apprentice again, and yet… 

It would not be the same thing as declaring an intent to surpass and kill his Master. Darth Sidious might claim to heed the rule of two, but his actions had proved that was a lie given how many Sith acolytes there were running around Imperial Centre even if you didn’t count the Inquisitors. Perhaps he  _ should  _ reconsider. It couldn’t be a full time arrangement without drawing unwanted attention from his Master, but it would not be difficult to take some time to train the boy when they were both here on Mustafar. 

What else could the Force be trying to tell him?

\----

Luke clenched his new prosthetic and watched the light play over the bare durasteel. There was still a deep ache in his forearm where the mount for his hand had been placed, the muscle and bone still healing, but it was easy to ignore. That kind of low-level pain almost felt like an old friend at this point. 

He wasn’t sure if he was going to leave it bare like this or choose to get it painted like Ninth Sister’s, or perhaps get a padded glove to go over the top of it. It might draw stares if he didn’t cover it up - there hadn’t been any people with prosthetics in the farms around the Lars homestead, and only a few in Anchorhead. It made sense to cover up against sand getting in on Tatooine, but even so people talked and not in a nice way. It had never made sense to Luke. It didn’t make someone ‘less than’, or like a droid, or whatever folk might say. 

It was still taking some getting used to though. He needed to learn his grip-strength and fine motor control all over again, and he was still clumsy with it. It held a lightsaber well enough, and most of the movements to fight with that were in the arms and wrist. He was bitter that Vader had done it to him, but not about having a prosthetic itself. 

“I’ve been given my new assignment,” Banee said, sitting down next to him at the mess table. There was no such thing as a prosthetic lek, and the wound where hers had been was still red and raw, a bit shiny from the bacta cream she had to put on it twice a day. “I’m going to be working with the Tenth Brother. Project Harvester.” Her expression was flat and hard, but Luke could sense the dark disgust she was trying to keep under control. 

His prosthetic whined as he made a tight fist of it. “What are you going to do?” he asked. 

“What  _ can _ I do?” she whispered back. “Refuse? Then I might as well have let one of the other students kill me back on Arkanis. There aren’t any  _ choices _ here. There’s just going along with it. Accepting it. This is how the galaxy works, and I haven’t got any power to change it.  _ You  _ might, one day.” 

“I will,” Luke said, although he couldn’t feel quite as confident now as he had before. He had never felt as powerful as when he’d been fighting Vader, and even then it hadn’t been nearly enough to defeat him. There was still so much to learn, and he would need to be so much better and stronger than he was… and if Vader was as tough as that, wouldn’t the Emperor be even worse? 

“What about you?” Banee asked. Luke supposed he should start calling her Fifteenth Sister out loud, but he refused to get into the habit of using a slave name to refer to anyone inside the privacy of his own head. “Do you know who you’ll be working with?” 

“Third Brother,” Luke said. He wasn’t sure if all Inquisitors worked in pairs, or if this was just a smart precaution to make sure they didn’t use their new freedom to try and run. “Something about hunting for Jedi relics? I’m not sure.”

“I wish we could find out something about these people before we have to work with them,” Banee said. “I’ve tried asking the Purge Troopers, but they won’t talk to me about that sort of thing.”

The Purge Troopers tried not to talk to Inquisitors about anything, Luke had noticed. They spoke amongst themselves plenty, but they always shut up fast if Luke tried to join in, or even gave away that he was listening at all. “What about asking Ninth Sister?”

“She’s more likely to tell you than me,” Banee said. “She likes you more.”

“I’ll find her after breakfast then,” Luke promised. “When do you leave?”

Banee shrugged. “This afternoon? Maybe? I don’t know - but there’s nothing to keep us here. All the tests are over. Our training is done. The Empire’s going to want to start getting a return on its investment.” 

\----

Luke found Ninth Sister sparring with another Inquisitor in one of the training dojos; he went in and stood leaning against the wall to wait until she was done. He had seen a few other Inquisitors around the complex here and there, but although they usually exchanged curious looks he got the impression they were waiting to see if he survived the final test before they would talk to him. 

Ninth Sister’s opponent was a human man with slicked back ginger hair, not wearing a helmet unlike most of the other Inquisitors Luke had seen. He had a few thin, silver scars across his face, but none of them looked like they were from a lightsaber. He was too old to have been part of Project Harvester - so was Ninth Sister, actually. Luke realised he had never really wondered how long the Inquisitorius had existed. Had the Inquisitors been working for Darth Sidious during the time of the Republic? They hadn’t been mentioned in any of his history lessons. 

Maybe something else to ask at some point. 

Something prodded Luke’s leg. He looked down to find a small droid looking up at him with a single optic. It prodded him again with one of its small feet, keeping its balance easily, and gave a suspicious sounding beep. It was painted like an Imperial droid, but it wasn’t from any of the standard models that Luke knew of. He crouched down to get a better look at it. 

“Who are you then?” he asked it, looking for any code or serial number embossed on its chassis. 

It chirped angrily at him in binary. [ _ I am BD-1. I am meant to be here. You are not. Identify yourself, Interloper! _ ]

Luke blinked in surprise and then laughed quietly. After so long meeting only the blank, personality-free Imperial droids of Area Null, finding a droid that had a real personality made him feel weirdly better. “Fifteenth Brother,” he said - he was going to need to get the hang of that new ‘name’ himself. 

The clash of lightsabers came to a stop, and Luke looked up to see the male Inquisitor striding over with a frown creasing his forehead. 

“Beedee, come here,” he ordered. The droid gave a quick beep of agreement and bounced over - the Inquisitor actually put his arm down so that it could run up and hook onto the back of his uniform with its head hovering up over his shoulder. “What have I told you about talking to strangers,” he said to it quietly, giving Luke a wary glare. 

The droid chirped an apology. 

Luke stood up. “I didn’t mean your droid any harm,” he said. “I just came here to speak to Ninth Sister.” 

“What about?” Ninth Sister said, coming over to join them. To the man she said, “If you’re gonna let that thing distract you like that in a real fight, you’ll be the one losing something this time.”

“I’ve beaten you before,” the man snapped, turning his glare on her. 

Ninth Sister shrugged. “And I care about that because? Anyway, let me speak to our newest Brother.”

“So this is Fifteenth Brother,” the Inquisitor said, giving Luke a once-over. “The Grand Inquisitor might have let slip you had a special project. Is he it, or the girl?” 

Ninth Sister ignored the question. “Well kid, what did you want?”

“I wanted to ask about some of the other Inquisitors,” Luke said. The dynamic between these two was… odd. More confrontational than he’d expected, although maybe that made sense. Ninth Sister didn’t believe in friends. 

The dowutin grinned. “Oh, you’re here for gossip. I can do gossip. Anyone you were particularly curious about?”

“Fifteen Sister told me she’s been assigned to Tenth Brother,” Luke said, not wanting to sound  _ too _ interested. Ninth Sister already knew they were friends, but the man didn’t. It might be better to keep that a secret. 

“Harvester stuff,” Ninth Sister said, nodding. “Pretty typical, easy missions to start a new Inquisitor out on. Tenth Brother’s fine, average swordsman, average in the Force. He’s a zabrak - think he was picked up in the early days from Iridonia. Really not that much to say about him.”

Luke wanted to ask what he was like as a person, but that might be a question too far, particularly given that they had company. “And I’m meant to be assigned to Third Brother,” he said instead. “What about him?”

“That would be me,” the other Inquisitor said. Luke gave him a startled look. 

“I’m sure you’ve not started off too badly on the wrong foot,” Ninth Sister said, grinning. “At least you’ve learned how much that little droid means to him.”

“You’d think Sith would be less picky about attachment,” Third Brother said to himself. 

“One, we’re not Sith,” Ninth Sister said. “Two, attachment is fine so long as it doesn’t breed weakness. So long as you’re strong enough to defend whatever weak point it makes for you. Not that you have anything to worry about in that respects, right?”

Third Brother said nothing. What had Ninth Sister told them about Inquisitorial rank again? Yes, Luke and Banee had been put in at the bottom for now, but going forwards their rank would be determined by their skill and strength in the Dark Side, rather than by experience. He wasn’t sure how old Ninth Sister was, but she certainly talked like she was more experienced than the Third Brother. 

“You might have picked up that we have history,” Ninth Sister said - perhaps Luke had let something leak out past his shields. “He’s the one who gave me this.” She waved her prosthetic hand. 

“I thought that might have been Darth Vader,” Luke said, feeling a sudden stab of ghostly pain from his wrist.

“Nah,” Ninth Sister said. She flipped up her visor and pointed to her left eye. “He did this.” A long lightsaber scar cut through that side of her face, through an eye that had been replaced by an artificial one. “The leg was some other bastard who’s long dead now, good riddance. Not that any of that’s ever slowed me down.”

“So…” Luke said, addressing Third Brother with a certain amount of awkwardness. “What sort of mission will  _ we  _ be going on?”

“Primarily scouting old temples,” Third Brother said. “There’ve been Jedi, Sith and other Force traditions for as long as there's been galactic civilisation. We have a long history. Sometimes there are artefacts that shouldn’t fall into the wrong hands. After the Purge, Jedi fled to these kinds of places. Most moved on, but sometimes they left things behind.”

“What sorts of things?” Luke asked, interested and curious. This sounded like a much more pleasant assignment compared to what Banee would be doing at least. 

Third Brother shrugged. He looked uncomfortable, and his voice had a harsh edge as though he wasn’t used to talking this much. “Holocrons. Data wafers. Kyber crystals. Stuff from the Coruscant Temple. Whatever they thought they needed to keep safe.”

“Are we likely to actually run into a Jedi?”

Third Brother’s eyes narrowed. “You ask a lot of questions,” he said, more confused than angry. “Also, no. Everyone’s dead now. Well. Almost. If we run into Kenobi and Tano though, we’re calling Lord Vader.”

“I’ve heard of Kenobi, but who is Tano?”

Third Brother shook his head. “There’ll be time for you to ask me questions while we’re travelling,” he said. “I need to… go do things.” He gave Ninth Sister one last glare, and left the room. The droid on his shoulder swivelled round and beeped a slightly rude farewell at them. 

“He was… interesting,” Luke said. He didn’t sense direct malice or anger from him, but then his shielding had been very good. He didn’t know why he had reacted so oddly to all of this. 

“I think he would have preferred not to be partnered up with anyone,” Ninth Sister said. “He doesn’t actually get to choose though.”

Luke winced. He didn’t relish travelling around with someone who didn’t want him there. Still, this was a chance to see other planets outside of a holo - real plants, real animals, real weather... That was worth putting up with a lot. 

“He used to be a Jedi,” Ninth Sister said. “Hence the whole chopping off my hand thing.”

Luke was sure his surprise leaked out of his shields. “A Jedi? But I thought…? Shouldn’t he be dead then?”

Ninth Sister smiled. “He saw the weaknesses of that philosophy. He isn’t one anymore, and when you become an Inquisitor your history ceases to matter. That’s all given up the same way as your first name. He’s where he ought to be now, making the Dark stronger.”

“So if we  _ did _ find a Jedi, we don’t have to kill them? We should convince them that they’re wrong instead?” Luke asked. That option certainly hadn’t been mentioned at any point before. 

“Most Jedi just can’t be convinced,” Ninth Sister said, with a shrug. “I doubt you’ll actually run across any Jedi out there, but don’t put your own life at risk to talk to someone who is going to be trying to kill you. I only mentioned it because of Third Brother, although he’s not the only one.”

Luke blinked, and looked at her with new eyes. He’d wondered about her age - was this the answer? He knew how to read her at this point though, and their conversation was over. He would have to wait for some other time to find that out. 


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Luke gets to know the Third Brother while Vader acts on his new-found interest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content warnings for mentions of slavery, and more murder.

**4 BBY - Qina, Moddell Sector, Outer Rim Territories**

Luke pushed aside a leaf the side of his entire torso and shivered as it dumped an uncomfortable amount of stagnant water onto his head. On every side the air was heavy with moisture and with the low roar of an uncountable number of insects chirping and buzzing. The feeling of life, life,  _ life _ in the Force all around him was almost suffocating, and he was very small in the face of it. That wasn’t necessarily a bad thing though, and despite his physical discomfort this was still an enjoyable experience. Everything was so new and interesting. He had to concentrate to keep his mind on their mission rather than gawking at the verdant surroundings.

Ahead of him Third Brother pushed onwards towards the stone spire just visible piercing up through the canopy, unaffected by any of the things Luke was feeling. He didn’t say anything as Luke shook the dampness from his hair and hurried to catch up. He hadn’t said very much to Luke at all actually, although sometimes he talked to his droid when he forgot that Luke was with him. He hadn’t answered any questions during their hyperspace transit either, but had shut Luke out of the cockpit with orders not to touch his stuff and put on some music that came through the door only as a deep bass thrum. 

Luke had spent the trip in a light meditation, allowing his frustration to build in the Dark Side, wrapping the Force around him. Third Brother was a solid presence on the ship, but closed off and impenetrable. The Dark moved around him as a sluggish tension that Luke thought matched sorrow more than hate. That was only his guess - he didn’t know him well enough to be sure, and his shields were strong. 

Clinging to the Third Brother’s back, Beedee swiveled his head to point his optic Luke’s way and chirped in binary. Something along the lines of ‘I’m watching you’. The droid was obviously suspicious of him, but Luke couldn’t blame it for being protective. 

As they approached the temple, Luke started to feel the same sharp, tingling, bright-sunlight feeling as his kyber crystal had put off into the Force before it bled. There was something about it that set his teeth on edge - not painful exactly, but not comfortable either. Tapping into the Dark just enough to boost himself forward, he joined Third Brother where dirt became laid stone paving. 

“What is that?” he asked, finding himself whispering for some reason. Something about this place just seemed to demand it. 

“What is what?” Third Brother said. 

“That sensation in the Force.”

Third Brother gave him a surprised look. After the moment it took for him to realise it was a genuine question, he said, “That’s the Light Side.” 

Luke nodded. “Okay. I thought so, but I wasn’t sure.”

A question hovered on Third Brother’s lips, but then he clenched his jaw and turned away. “This was a Jedi temple once,” he said. “I don’t sense any sapient life inside, but that doesn’t mean it’s safe in there. The Jedi didn’t like the idea of Sith getting in.”

“So it’s trapped.”

“Maybe. Keep behind me, and stay close.”

They moved stealthily over the courtyard, stepping over thick, tangled vines. The main door gaped open in front of them like a mouth. Luke felt on edge, but he wasn’t sure if it was the effect of the Light side or because he was sensing some genuine danger. Once inside the building the air was cooler and more pleasant. Plant life had invaded here too, sprouting up from cracks in the floor or dangling down from holes in the roof. Rubble lay scattered everywhere. 

“Do you sense anything?” Third Brother asked him abruptly. 

Luke briefly reached out more strongly, concentrating. “No. Nothing unusual.” 

Third nodded. When they moved into the next room, a long hall, the floor had given way in the centre of it, tumbling down to some basement level. Third Brother took a brief run-up, then leapt over with a push in the Force. He landed easily on the other side, soft enough that Beedee had no trouble clinging on, and looked back. Luke tensed, struck by a little bit of doubt, but it wasn’t objectively any worse than the assault courses in Area Null. He jumped, and had to roll to disperse momentum on the other side when he overdid it. 

A very brief smirk quirked Third’s lips. On his back, Beedee chirped laughter. 

“Through here,” Third Brother said. The next room was smaller, and although it was impossible to tell what it had originally been used for, there was a dark mark on the floor from a campfire. Third Brother crouched down next to it and pulled off his glove, putting his palm flat against the stone. The Force moved - a quiet, subtle ripple out from where he was touching, but Luke didn’t miss it. Third’s eyes fluttered closed. 

“There were Jedi here,” he said. “They moved on years ago, but…” He stood up, and motioned for Luke to follow. They went through a few twisting corridors - Luke might have thought they were lost, but Third Brother seemed to know where he was going. A few times he held out a hand to stop Luke stepping on what were apparently traps, although he had no idea how he knew that they were there. Finally they came to the place Third was looking for - a small chamber with a heavy door. It had been locked, but Third Brother forced it open with a pulse of the Dark Side and then they were inside. 

There was a small collection of datapads and wafers wrapped in protective anti-static cloth, and a small cube of metal and crystal that Third Brother picked up gingerly. It was glowing a soft blue. 

“What is that?” Luke asked. 

“This is a holocron,” Third Brother said. “They’re ways of storing information - they can only be opened with the Force, and in the case of Jedi holocrons, with the Light Side.” 

“So there’s no way to know what’s on it?” Luke said, disappointed. 

“It doesn’t matter what’s on it. What matters is that it isn’t here for a Jedi to find in the future.” Third packed the things away into a rucksack and handed in to Luke to carry. Apparently that was one of the duties of a more junior Inquisitor. “I didn’t see anything else here we need to bother with. Back to the ship.” 

“What did you do exactly, at the campfire?” Luke asked, as they made their way through the twisting passages. 

At first he thought Third Brother was going to refuse to answer again, but then he said, “Psychometry. I have a knack for it. It’s picking up the history of a place or an object through the Force, when you touch it. The stronger the emotions attached to the events, the easier it is.” 

“They never taught us that on Arkanis,” Luke said, impressed and intrigued. 

“There’s a lot they don’t teach you there,” Third Brother said, his tone dark. “Although I hear you’ve been figuring things out for yourself.”

Luke winced, and wondered how much exactly he knew. How much had Ninth Sister told him? He couldn’t imagine Darth Vader exchanging gossip with anyone. “I’d appreciate anything you have to teach me,” he said, hoping that might distract from any questions. 

Third Brother gave him an odd look, then laughed unhappily. “I can’t take on a Padawan,” he said, “and calling you an apprentice might be even worse.”

“So that’s a no?” 

“That’s a no.” 

“I’ll just have to figure it out myself then,” Luke says, smiling. Third Brother hasn’t snapped at him or punished him for talking to him, so it couldn’t be that he was angry at Luke for doing so. Maybe it was just because he wasn’t used to having company, like Ninth Sister said. Maybe there was something else going on that Luke didn’t have a hope of understanding yet. Either way, so long as Third didn’t tell him otherwise he would keep trying. He wanted to get to know him. He wanted… to make friends, he supposed. Ninth Sister wouldn’t approve, but she wasn’t here. 

Luke had plenty of time. 

\----

**4 BBY - Fortress Vader, Mustafar, Atravis Sector, Outer Rim Territories**

Luke wasn’t expecting to be summoned by Darth Vader himself when he and Third Brother got back to Mustafar to drop off their findings, but he had barely set foot on the planet before a Purge Trooper found him and delivered just that message. Luke bit back an automatic refusal. That wasn’t an option. If a Sith ordered, he had to obey. Besides, he didn’t even know what it was about yet. It would be pointless earning himself a punishment that didn’t achieve anything. 

He got into the Trooper’s speeder for the short trip over and sat clutching his wrist as they flew. The joint was burning with remembered pain and the ghost of his hand fired off cramps despite the metal taking its place. Luke took deep long breaths and pumped his prosthetic in and out of a fist. The sensory feedback helped a little. His fingers prodded at the point where metal became flesh, entranced by the strangeness of feeling something solid and hard underneath his own skin. Anger crawled in the back of his mind. Vader. The Sith. 

It almost made it worse somehow that this was just a part of becoming an Inquisitor. It wasn’t personal. It was barely even  _ for _ anything. Luke didn’t quite remember what had happened in the hazy time between the fight and the medbay, but someone had told him something about being taught the meaning of loss. He had almost laughed in bitter rage back then, and it still stung. Loss? As though anybody who came into that arena didn’t already know more than enough about loss! 

Zar. Luke couldn’t help thinking about him. That was the real meaning of loss, and of sacrifice. The pain of his memory was a tear across the inside of his heart - it made it feel hard to breathe. It was why he tried  _ not  _ to remember. Zar’s death… it  _ had _ to mean something. Luke had to  _ make _ it mean something, and he had already failed because Vader was still alive. 

The brief blast of air between the speeder and the entrance to the castle was a hot slap against his skin and into his lungs, but it was a little cooler inside. The trooper led Luke upwards and left him in a room with a transparisteel ceiling that lay just at the point where the two spires split apart. Their looming mass was visible to either side when he looked up. The walls slanted inwards slightly, giving a sense of being pulled upwards. 

For a moment Luke felt as though he was actually looking  _ down  _ into the vast expanse of Mustafar’s sky, roiling black clouds like the sea far below. He swayed in place, off balance. Then the heavy weight of a presence entering the room behind him brought him back to reality. 

Luke turned around. Darth Vader had joined him. 

“My lord,” Luke said, going down on one knee in the expected gesture of respect. 

“Fifteenth Brother. I trust your trip was uneventful.”

Luke stood up again, thoughts whirling. Was this a debrief? “Yes my lord,” Luke said. “We located the temple and Third Brother found some datapads and a holocron left behind by the Jedi. They’ve been returned safely. There wasn’t any sign of living Jedi.”

The blank mask inclined in a slight nod. “Third Brother. How do you find him?”

Luke didn’t like that question. Maybe this wasn’t about him. Maybe this was a test of Third Brother’s loyalty - after all, Ninth Sister had said he was once a Jedi. “He appears to be a loyal servant of the Empire,” he said, hoping that was the right answer. 

“And you, young one? Are you a loyal servant of the Empire?” 

Luke sensed dark amusement behind those words. He tensed, then tried not to show it. “Of course I am, Lord Vader.”

“I sense your hate.” Vader wasn’t moving, just standing there with his hands resting on his belt, but Luke felt as though he was being circled by a predator. “You desire my death.” 

Luke took a deep breath and remembered Ninth Sister’s words. “I follow the path of the Dark Side, my lord. I understood it was acceptable, expected even, to try and take the place of those above you.”

There was an odd sound then, a sort of scraping static from Vader’s vocoder. Luke could almost believe it was laughter but… from a Sith? “Few have such ambition as you, young one. However you are correct. Your hatred for me is immaterial, so long as you know your place.”

Luke bowed slightly. “I know I can’t defeat you Lord Vader, so what would be the point of trying again?” Trying again right now, he thought to himself behind tight shields. One day… but first he had to live to see it. He didn’t detect any murderous intent from the Sith Lord though. 

“Indeed,” Vader said. “You have great potential, Fifteenth Brother. That potential requires training, and that in turn requires that you obey my instructions.”

Luke looked up, eyes wide, and was suddenly certain that he was meeting Vader’s eyes behind the flat gaze of his helmet. “You… want to train me yourself, my lord?” 

Vader nodded. “Correct.”

“Forgive me Lord Vader but, why?”

The temperature dropped noticeably and Luke winced - the Dark Side showed evidence enough of Vader’s displeasure. “I need no reason,” he replied. 

“Sorry Lord Vader,” Luke said - although he noted that the apology didn’t seem to change how Vader felt in the Force. He supposed apologising wasn’t very Sith-like, so perhaps he didn’t like it when people did that? “Do we… when are my lessons going to start?” 

“Now,” the Sith said. “You will show me how you meditate.”

Taking a deep breath in and out - on Mustafar with the pull of the Dark so strong this could go very wrong if he wasn’t careful - Luke knelt down in the centre of the floor and prepared to demonstrate. 

Trying to meditate with Darth Vader standing behind him was a nerve-wracking experience, but it wasn’t as awful as Luke had immediately worried. Having him there, listening to the rhythmic rasp of his breathing and surrounded by his dark-star presence in the Force, made it easier to summon the thread of his anger and hatred and anchor the Dark Side to him. He sank into a light meditation and then hesitated, wary of going deeper. Vader’s attention was impossible to ignore, although the weight of it was in some ways shielding him from the maelstrom beyond that was Mustafar itself. 

“What emotion are you meditating upon?” Vader’s deep baritone cut through the half-trance of his meditation. 

“Ninth Sister asked me that same question,” Luke replied, forgetting in the moment to use the Sith’s title. He went tense the moment he realised, waiting for punishment, but it didn’t come. He relaxed by inches. There hadn’t even been a reaction in the Force so either Vader hadn’t noticed - unlikely - or he didn’t care. Perhaps it only mattered around other people. If he wanted Luke as a student (an  _ apprentice _ , he wondered?) that might allow a certain amount of informality. 

“Did Ninth Sister teach you how to meditate?” Vader asked. 

Luke shook his head. “I figured it out on my own,” he said. “Am… have I been doing it wrong the whole time?” Ninth Sister hadn’t told him so or offered to teach him how to do so properly, but then… she hadn’t been thinking too much about that whole thing. Luke had been nudging her mind away from it, for his own protection. 

“The Dark Side is hungry,” Vader said. His breath hissed, in, out. In the Force he was wrapped closely around Luke’s own presence, actively sensing what he was doing. An edge of fear shivered through Luke’s mind but… with his eyes closed and the Dark Side pulsing through him in time with his own heartbeat it was almost reassuring. Familiar. It felt right. He was meant to be here. He belonged here. “You reach out to it, and it reaches in return. If you do not impose your own will upon it then it will seek to consume you utterly, and you will let it.” He must have sensed Luke’s brief guilt, because he continued, “It appears you already know this.”

Luke was about to protest that it had been an accident, but  _ obviously  _ it had been. That didn’t make it any less dangerous or foolish. “It felt natural,” he said. “It felt good.”

Vader paused, and for a moment his attention lifted. He was thinking about something else - Luke wondered what. Then his attention returned. “Many dangerous things do,” he said. 

“So… the problem is letting the Dark Side so deeply inside me?” Luke asked. “Or… letting too much of myself out into the Dark?”

“You are unfocused. Without direction. You feed the Dark Side all of your emotion and you demand nothing back. That is where the danger lies.”

“And that’s why I should be focusing on one emotion particularly?”

“Correct. Within the Dark Side you will come to understand every facet and flavour of your hate, your anger and thus how it gives you power.”

Luke recentered himself, matching his breathing to Vader’s. What emotion specifically to use… He supposed that was part of the point. It wasn’t about directionless, vague anger. It was knowing where your anger came from, what fueled it, what would ease it and make things right again. Well he knew the answer to that already. 

Luke thought about the day his aunt and uncle had been murdered and let the old, familiar anger flow through him bringing the Force with it. Everything associated with that strain of emotion followed on from then, from that single moment in his life. It had changed everything, and every bit of pain and abuse was rooted in it. He knew who was responsible. The Inquisitorius - the organisation, not the people. The people were stuck in the same inescapable trap as he and Banee, doing what they had to do to survive. The Sith were the cause. Darth Sidious and Darth Vader were the cause. 

He breathed, and felt, and his determination crystalised inside him all over again. 

\----

**4 BBY - Inquisitorius Shuttle** **_Eliminator_ ** **, in hyperspace**

Luke became aware that he was dreaming. Their destination lay on the other side of the galaxy from Mustafar and they would be in and out of hyperspace for some time. Third Brother was no more companionable now than on their last few trips which meant there wasn’t much to do except meditate. It wasn’t malice or disinterest, Luke was becoming more and more sure of that. It was caution - the same kind that Ninth Sister had done her best to instil in him. Third Brother didn’t want to be friends because he didn’t think it was safe to have friends. Luke didn’t have any proof that this was the reason, but the idea felt right. Sometimes he thought Third was about to open up to him, to actually talk to him, but every time he pulled away first. Luke understood why because there were so many ways he could betray that kind of trust, but he had promised to himself that he would prove otherwise. He would prove to Third Brother that it was safe. 

So, meditation. He wasn’t doing that deep, too-connected thing anymore now that Darth Vader had shown him what he  _ ought _ to be focusing on, not that there was much to lose himself in out here in hyperspace. Of course the Force was everywhere, but it was generated by life and matter and it was stronger where those things were present. Sitting in his cabin on board  _ Eliminator _ Luke could sense stars and nebulae and black holes as these achingly distant things, their awful cosmic power and strength attenuated by the lightyears that stretched between them. Much closer was Third Brother, mind locked behind walls of ice. No distractions to Luke’s focus on his own emotions. 

It had been a while since Luke last fell asleep while still meditating. Not since Area Null. There had been lucid dreams - the one about the strange figure on Mustafar which Luke now deeply suspected was Darth Vader, and a few more where he had been back with Leia in the field of long grass and distant waterfalls.  _ Those  _ had only happened away from Mustafar, and Luke suspected something about that planet blocked them. Leia was good company though when he did see her, and always happy to tell him stories. Luke’s lack of non-Inquisitorius life experience meant he had a lot fewer of his own to share, but she didn’t mind. 

This wasn’t either of those dreams. It wasn’t anything he recognised. 

He was watching a scene play out from behind someone else’s eyes, no more than an observer. An Inquisitor loomed over him, the tip of her lightsaber humming bare inches from his throat. Her helmet was off, lying discarded on the floor a little way away, and her eyes were intense and wild. Luke didn’t recognise her, but there were plenty of Inquisitors he hadn’t met yet. 

“You’ve lost, Cal Kestis,” she said, and there was an echo of grief and anger from somewhere inside the dream. “You never had a chance. You can’t save anyone - you were a fool to think you ever could.” 

The sound of running footsteps loud on the metal decking cut off whatever she might have said next. She half-turned towards another woman who emerged from a side door at full pelt and then stumbled to a stop when she was met by the sight in front of her. Her wide eyes flickered between the Inquisitor and this ‘Cal’, horrified. 

“A little late Cere,” the Inquisitor said. She gestured and the Force wrapped around Cal’s throat. Luke could only watch from behind his eyes as he was hauled to his feet. The Inquisitor moved to stand behind him with her lightsaber hovering over his neck. The other woman was hesitating, held hostage by the threat of his death. 

“Trilla… You don’t have to do this,” Cere said. She moved forwards carefully, holding out an open hand. The other grasped an Inquisitor’s lightsaber. Luke didn’t think it was her own. “I  _ know _ the darkness that’s eating you up inside. You don’t have to give into it. You can choose not to keep on feeding it. You can fight it - you can come back from this!”

The Inquisitor - Trilla - scoffed. “Please. It’s far too late for that Cere. You have  _ lost _ . Both of you.”

“No.” Cere was pleading now. She hefted the lightsaber, then tossed it away from her. “I have to have hope. I know that the choices I made took all your choices away from you. I failed you Trilla. I didn’t protect you, and I should have. This is my fault, and that’s why I need to make it right.”

“You can’t erase my hate with an  _ apology _ ,” the Inquisitor said. “And your hope is nothing compared to the power of the Dark Side.” 

Whatever Cere might have said in reply to that was cut off by an all-too-familiar sound. From this point of view Luke couldn’t see Darth Vader arrive, but he didn’t have to when his presence was so clearly announced. The Force and his sense of it didn’t work right in dreams, even these lucid ones, but by the expression of surprise and dismay on the woman’s face he thought she must not have sensed him there before. Her dark skin turned ashen. 

“It was foolish to come here,” Darth Vader said. There was a loud thump and then Vader strode past them, towards Cere. “All you have achieved is to deliver another padawan into the hands of the Sith.”

“No… No…” Cere threw out her hand and tried to call the discarded lightsaber to her, but it stopped in the air half-way as Vader dragged it towards him. Beads of sweat formed on Cere’s brow as she struggled to match Vader’s power. She wasn’t successful. The saber hilt went flying and Luke didn’t hear it hit the ground. 

Vader lit his own lightsaber and lunged forwards. The person who Luke was watching this through moved as well with a desperate urge to help, but Trilla moved her saber closer to his throat until he could feel it burning. “No,” she said. “You’re going to watch your friend die.”

There was naked desperation on Cere’s face, but more than that there was rage and pain. Familiar emotions. With a cry she brought her hands forwards, fingers curling into claws. Like the ghost of a ghost Luke felt the Dark Side answer her call. Her power tightened around Vader and for a moment it actually forced him down to one knee. Cal’s heart leapt, but there was despair mixed in with his hope. 

“Cere, no,” he called. “You don’t have to do this. Don’t… don’t turn because of me! Just run!”

“Hypocrite,” Trilla murmured beside his ear, that one word dripping with hate. 

Slowly, Vader got to his feet. “The Dark Side is strong with you,” he said. “A pity you did not choose to use it before.” He began to walk forwards. Snarling with effort Cere kept on trying to hold him back, but he was a Sith. No-one knew the Dark Side better than him. He brought his saber up, but when it came down it smashed off of something unseen in the air. Cere’s hands twisted, from crushing claws to open palms. 

Luke had never seen something like this before. He watched fascinated. How was she doing that? Was it something he could learn?

Darth Vader adjusted his grip on his lightsaber, and pushed point first into the shield. With agonising slowness, the blade started to penetrate through. He pressed it further and further as once again desperation grew in Cere’s eyes, on and on until the tip reached her stomach and bit in. 

The shield fell all at once. Vader rammed his lightsaber forwards with a grunt and it stabbed through Cere’s body. Cal screamed. 

Luke woke up. 

\----

**4 BBY - Listehol, Kwymar Sector, Outer Rim Territories**

This time the temple that was their target lay high in the mountains, set amongst twisting rocks where bringing in the shuttle to land was impossible. Luke and Third Brother set down on more level ground further down and started looking for the path that would lead them up. Third Brother was quiet and distant as usual. Luke watched him carefully both with his own eyes and in the Force. He was fairly certain the dream he’d shared had been Third Brother’s. Cal’s, he supposed. He had the man’s real name now. Did he still use it, inside the privacy of his head, or had he lost that to the Inquisitorius like they were supposed to? 

Third Brother did not seem to have noticed Luke’s presence in his dream. Luke hadn’t meant to do it and wasn’t sure how he’d managed it. Third’s shields were still there, strong and layered. Luke didn’t sense a weak point in them like the one he’d unconsciously made in Ninth Sister’s. He couldn’t get inside now. So why did it work when they were both asleep? 

Maybe Darth Vader would know, but the idea of asking the Sith Lord made Luke uneasy. It might be taken as weakness, on Cal’s part. It might result in punishment, for one or other of them. It didn’t seem like the dream-sharing had caused any harm, so Luke hoped he had time to work it out himself. 

They found the trailhead after a while, and then it was just a matter of walking. A healthy sweat started beading on Luke’s forehead as they set a good pace. There probably wasn’t any real need to rush, but on the slight chance there  _ was _ someone living up there then they would have seen the shuttle’s arrival. Best not to give them an opportunity to run. The Force was strong here, as expected for someplace the Jedi would build, and rippled with that sharp, needle-and-burning feeling that Luke was coming to associate with the Light Side. 

Reaching out to the Force was second nature at this point and Luke wasn’t really thinking about it, which was perhaps why it took him a moment to notice that the bright sparks of life above them weren’t just plants and animals. He slowed down, taken off guard. Third Brother noticed and looked back, raising an eyebrow in a silent question. Beedee echoed that with a warbling chirp of his own.

“There’s someone up there,” Luke said, focusing more intently. “They don’t feel Force sensitive.” Certainly nothing like any Inquisitors or Sith, and even if he didn’t know what Jedi felt like from experience he was sure they would be somehow  _ more _ than this. 

“You can feel them from this distance?” Third asked. 

Luke frowned. “Yes - can’t you?” Or perhaps this was another test. 

Third ignored his question. “If you say they aren’t Force-sensitive I’ll trust you’re right. I suppose the building up there is shelter of a kind. Not the wisest place to make into a home though.”

“What's the operating procedure for a situation like this?” Luke asked. There would be one - the Imperial bureaucracy was thorough. 

“No-one is allowed to live in a Jedi temple,” Third said, as they began to hike again slightly faster than before. “We’ll have to move them on.” A slight beat of hesitation. “Depending on how long they’ve been there.”

“And if they’ve been there too long?” Luke asked. How much time was too long anyway? 

“They could have been contaminated by Jedi philosophies.” Third Brother didn’t sound happy about the idea. “Then we’d have to do our jobs, as Inquisitors.” 

Luke understood what that meant. Murdering them all. For the crime of trying to make a home for themselves somewhere they weren’t supposed to. A wave of rebellion rose up inside of him - no, it wasn’t  _ fair _ , it wasn’t  _ right _ \- but then he looked at Third Brother’s back and it was swallowed up by reality. Third was a loyal Inquisitor. Luke wasn’t powerful enough to be disloyal yet. What was he going to do if Third decided that was what had to happen? Fight him? Kill him? 

He’d been inside Third’s head. Seen the man he used to be. Cal Kestis had made the same poisoned choice as Luke and Banee - the thought of hurting him made Luke feel sick. 

Besides, even if he could bring himself to kill him, then what? Go back to Mustafar and find something to tell Darth Vader? Luke wasn’t  _ that _ good at lying.  _ Not _ going back wasn’t an option either, not if he wanted to achieve his end goal. 

Tension and nausea twisted inside of him, only barely helped by the exertion of the climb. 

When they reached the temple and stepped out of the cleft between two rocks into a large courtyard, there was no sign of life - or at least no visual sign. Luke could still sense people, their fear leaking into the Dark and making it huddle close around them feeding the harsh, harrowing desperation of each breath. They hid like prey from predators and were all the more unsuccessful for it. 

“I feel them,” Third Brother said. He stalked towards the main temple, calling his lightsaber hilt to hand. Luke followed like a shadow, hoping uselessly for a good outcome but with a terrible certainty that it would not be so. 

Third Brother stopped in front of a segment of wall that at first glance looked like the rest, except that terrified presences lurked behind it. Third reached out with the Force and pulled a piece of metal away from the hidden door revealing a keypad. “Beedee,” he said.

The droid jumped off his back and onto the wall - his feet must be magnetised. He stuck one foot onto the keypad and did something to the lock in a shower of sparks. A piece of wall slid open revealing the safe-room beyond.

Luke heard bitten-off curses and the sound of someone crying. A mixed group of twi'leks and humans looked up at them with wide, frightened eyes. Their bolthole wasn't large, and the only escape route was through the door where Luke and Cal now stood. There was a moment of tense silence, thick with fear, and then one of the twi'lek men stood up and stepped forward, something in his face hardening. 

"Have you come here to kill us?" he asked. 

"Not... exactly," Third Brother said. Luke saw his hand flex around the hilt of his lightsaber. "How long have you all been up here?"

"Only a few months. We thought it was deserted, abandoned."

"It was." 

The man shifted uneasily. "Then… what’s the harm in us being here? If you thought it was empty, why would two Imperial agents come here at all?” He took a deep breath and said, “Were you looking for us?"

"Why do you think you're so important to the Empire?" Third asked. “If you’re really so innocent, why hide in the first place? That implies you knew you were doing something wrong.”

The twi’lek’s smile was bitter and humourless. "I suppose there’s no point in trying to hide it now. We’re escaped slaves. Why wouldn’t we think you were sent to find us and return us to our masters?"

Luke's stomach lurched and he swallowed against a suddenly dry throat. Who had these people belonged to, before? They seemed so certain the Empire would want them re-enslaved, for all the lip-service it paid to at least  _ human _ slavery being against the law. They wouldn't believe that without good reason. But... that wasn't why he and Third Brother were here. There was no reason to even report that these people were living here, so long as they moved on and found someplace else. Right?

"That's not why we came," Third Brother said. "The Inquisitorius has little interest in slaves and ex-slaves. We’re here because this place you're hiding used to be a Jedi Temple. Perhaps you’re aware of Imperial law when it comes to those traitors? Being here at all is its own crime."

A slight flicker of hope had started to bloom in the hearts of the people around them, but Luke felt those words extinguish it, slide them back down into despair. The Dark Side weighed heavily over them all, inexorable, waiting.

Realisation dawned in the man's eyes too, but despite that his determination barely wavered in the Force. “A crime for which the penalty is enslavement once again?” he asked. His stance shifted slightly. Protectiveness and desperation were something solid and heavy in his mind and the emotion tugged at Luke making his breath catch in his throat. “You could always look the other way,” the twi’lek challenged. “We would be happy to move on. We don’t know anything about Jedi, and I doubt anyone here cares anything for them either. We’re harmless, no threat to anyone - but I suppose the Empire doesn’t care about that, does it?” 

Luke couldn’t see Third Brother’s face from here, couldn’t read his expression, and his thoughts were shut off behind the barrier of his shields. Was he sympathetic? Did some part of him feel for these people the way that Luke did, or had that kind of emotion been beaten too far down by the necessity of living as an Inquisitor? Was he afraid to show mercy the way that Luke was afraid, or did the option even occur to him anymore?

“Your people have plenty of reasons to want revenge against the Empire,” Third said. “Why should I believe you’re here accidentally, rather than as an intentional act of rebellion?”

The man’s eyes flickered shut briefly. “I was the one who led them here. I will accept whatever responsibility you think deserved, but please if you have any sort of kindness, let everyone else go.” Around him something in the Force  _ burned _ , familiar enough that Luke had to bite back an exclamation. It was the same fierce, protective warmth in the Dark that had been present when Zar sacrificed himself. 

Wasn’t this just the same thing? A life given to save others?

Third Brother glanced around at Luke. Something flickered in his expression, quickly hidden. Luke thought it might be doubt. His jaw was tense and clenched. 

“Imperial Protocol is clear,” Third said. “Anyone suspected of associating with the Jedi or the remnants of their culture must be eradicated for the safety of all.”

The twi’lek snarled. “Then better to die than become slaves again.”

Luke couldn’t stop himself - he took a step forward and grabbed Cal’s wrist before he could raise his lightsaber. Third Brother looked down and Luke gave a very slight shake of his head. He let his shields down just enough to project reassurance and hoped Cal would believe it, hoped he had read the man right. Neither of them wanted to do this, but if they kept on acting as they thought the other one expected then they would drive each other into needless cruelty. 

Of course if Luke was wrong, then he had just condemned himself, but… He was sure he was right. 

Third Brother took a deep breath, and then some of the tension leached out of his body. “Fine,” he said. “I believe you.” He stepped back out of the doorway and Luke moved with him. The group of free slaves gave them cautious looks, obviously finding it hard to believe what was happening. “If you leave here quietly, and make sure you aren’t found then… then you were never here.”

The leader’s eyes darted between the two of them, confused, but he wasn’t about to argue or ask questions that might make them rethink their decision. He moved quickly, helping his people gather up their meager belongings and ushering them out of the bolthole. He was the last to leave, and he gave Luke and Cal a short nod of thanks, not trusting to words which might break the spell of what was happening. Then they were gone. 

“Are you going to report this?” Third Brother asked. His voice was flat and toneless. 

“Report what?” Luke said, his heart beating fast. “Like you said, there’s no-one here.”


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Luke meditates on the nature of the Force, continues Sith training, and runs a fun new obstacle course.

**4 BBY - Inquisitorius shuttle** **_Eliminator_ ** **, in hyperspace**

Luke wondered if Third Brother would want to talk some more about what had just happened, but it seemed he found it safer to act as though it had never occured. He locked himself up in the cockpit again as Luke had come to expect at this point, and left Luke to occupy himself in the shuttle’s main passenger hold. Luke ended up pacing up and down along the length of the small room, his thoughts whirling. Doubt kept on creeping back in despite all his reassurances and rationalisation. No, Third wasn’t going to give him up. Darth Vader wouldn’t find out what had happened. No other Inquisitors would find out either. They wouldn’t be punished. 

He wondered if Cal was having the same thoughts. 

It had been the right thing to do. Luke was sure of that. He had been preparing himself for the possibility of killing innocent people all the way up the mountain, sure that there was no other choice, but in the end there _had_ been. If his partner hadn’t been Third Brother though… if he hadn’t seen that brief moment of doubt on his face… things would have been very different. Would he still have tried to stop it? Or would he have gone through with yet more murders?

He kept coming back to Zar, and the twi’lek, and the way the Force had felt around them both at that moment of decision and willing sacrifice. He knew it had been the Dark Side rather than the prickling, sharp, brightness of the Light, but it was so different to how the Dark felt most of the time. He wanted to understand that. He wanted to know what it meant. 

Well, wasn’t that kind of understanding what meditation was for? That was what Darth Vader had taught him, to focus on one particular emotion and how it made the Force respond. 

Luke sat down cross-legged in the middle of the floor and closed his eyes. He tried to remember all the small details of what he’d sensed and the way the Force had felt. That deep, fierce warmth. The protectiveness. It wasn’t fueled with anger, although he and Zar and the twi’lek had all been angry. That was part of it, but not all. It was difficult to find the place in his mind. Luke had been a part of it, been deep in that aspect of the Dark when Zar had fought him, but Zar had guided the way. Here and now, alone like this, he was having difficulty grasping that exact feeling. 

He needed something more. Something to remind him, a physical anchor of some sort. Luke reached into one of the pockets of his uniform belt acting more on the vague prompting of the Force than any specific thought of his own and pulled out the two halves of his collar. Just looking at it in his hands he felt his face twist into a snarl. Familiar rage and hatred woke up in his heart, pulling the Dark close. 

But that wasn’t the part of the Dark he wanted just now. He breathed and thought about Arkanis, memories sharpened and made more real by the physical reminder he now held. He considered his anger and reminded himself once again just who he was angry at. It wasn’t the other students even for all they’d wanted to do to hurt him. It wasn’t Ninth Sister. It wasn’t the people. They were slaves too. They were victims too. They had all been wearing a collar just like this one. They had all been ripped away from their families like he had. He wasn’t angry with them. He was angry _for_ them. He wasn’t feeling any of this hatred just for himself. It was for other people, because if he did nothing, if he gave in to what the Empire wanted, if he accepted what they said about this just being the way things were and that it was impossible to be better… then it would all just keep happening. 

He would not give in to their view of reality. Nothing would change if he _believed_ nothing could change. 

He wanted to protect them. His fellow Inquisitors. The people of the galaxy. Slaves like those in the temple and the ones still held by their masters. Innocents, all the citizens of the Empire and beyond. And - the realisation came sudden and certain and swift - he wanted to save everyone who served the Empire only because they didn’t see any other options for their own survival. He didn’t know how many people that might be set against the cruel ones, the true believers who wanted the terror and supremacy and corruption, but there had to be a lot of them. 

The Force shifted around him and he felt the vastness of it, a briefer, lighter touch than when he’d almost fallen too deeply into it to ever come back. _You would really save them all_ ? it seemed to be asking him. _Do they really deserve it? Why give yourself for them?_

 _Yes,_ Luke replied, pushing the thought out into the Force with durasteel determination. _I would. All of them. Because… because things need to be better. I can_ make _them better._

 _What right do you have?_ the Force asked him. 

Luke saw the path ahead of him in his mind, his ambition stretching out into the future. He imagined himself striking down the Emperor and taking his place. He remembered what Ninth Sister had taught him about the Dark Side, about strength of will. _I have every right_ , he thought. _They will be_ mine _to protect._

Perhaps that, that possessiveness, was what did it, or perhaps it was simply the protectiveness itself. The Dark Side blossomed before him, breathing out warm life and comforting heat and a smell like a home he’d long forgotten. It wrapped around him like a blanket, shimmering and strong, and he felt the power and vastness of it like a yell, like the roar of an apex predator claiming the entire galaxy as its territory. 

Caught deep in meditation, Luke let the Force flow through him and fixed this feeling deep inside his bones. 

\----

**4 BBY - Inquisitorius Complex, Mustafar, Atravis Sector, Outer Rim Territories**

Third Brother caught Luke by the wrist after they landed, a thoughtful frown on his face. “You’re… not what I expected,” he said. 

“In a good way I hope,” Luke replied. 

“You should be careful,” Third said. “Lord Vader has taken an interest in you, right? If he finds out what we did…” 

“He won’t,” Luke said. He hoped he wasn’t being too confident, but then how _would_ the Sith find out? Neither of them were going to tell him. There would be no reason for him to look closer at the details of this mission. “You… I’m glad about what we did. It was the right thing.”

Third’s expression twisted for a moment. “How are you like this?” he asked. “You came from Arkanis - you should be…”

“Different?” Luke said. “A true believer?” He smiled. “Maybe the Empire is better than everything that came before it, but better is still a long way from good.” 

“Not just that,” Third said, still frowning. “You’re strong in the Dark Side Fifteenth. I can feel it. But the Dark Side doesn’t have any time for mercy. It feeds off pain and fear and death. It magnifies the worst parts of us…”

Luke pulled his wrist out of Third’s grasp. “That’s not all it is,” he said. Was that what Third Brother felt? It wasn’t the Dark Side doing that, it was the Inquisitorius programme. “That sounds like something the Jedi would have believed.” He hadn’t meant it as more than an observation, but the colour drained out of Third’s face leaving him paler than ever. 

“I’m no Jedi,” Third said, his voice shaking slightly. “I’m… I’m not. There’s no way back from the Dark Side anyway.”

Luke shrugged and did his best to look apologetic. “I know - I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that.”

Third took a deep breath, recentering himself. “We have some time before we’re likely to be given our next mission,” he said. “Be careful.”

“Thanks,” Luke said. “You too.”

\----

**4 BBY - Fortress Vader, Mustafar, Atravis Sector, Outer Rim Territories**

“Focus,” Darth Vader said. “You summoned Force lightning before.”

Luke glared at his own outstretched hand, feeling the Dark respond to his irritation. Vader was right, but he still didn’t understand _how_ he had managed that and the Sith wasn’t being very helpful in repeating the experience. “It might help if you demonstrated, Lord Vader,” he said, trying to keep his tone respectful. 

The temperature dropped by several degrees. Maybe not respectful enough Luke thought, wincing internally. He waited for punishment, but Vader said instead, “That is not possible.”

Luke knew he shouldn’t, knew he’d pushed enough already, but he asked, “Why not?”

“For the same reason you are using your left hand now.” 

Luke glanced in surprise at his right, prosthetic hand. He hadn’t thought about why the Sith had insisted he needed to use his left to call the lightning, but… it might be energy from the Force but it was still electricity. Delicate cybernetics would not play well with it. Which suggested that if Darth Vader couldn’t use lightning at all it must be because _both_ of his hands were cybernetics. 

That was interesting information, although Luke wasn’t sure what good it might be right now. He went back to focusing on the Dark Side and on the memory of the energy surge he’d called. It had been pure emotion, funnelled out through his fingertips. The Dark came easily enough to him, but actually _doing_ anything with it… 

“Focus your hate,” Vader said. “This was not a problem for you before.”

 _Yes, but you had just hurt my best friend right in front of me_ , Luke didn’t say. The Sith was right. He _should_ be able to hate him, and use that hate to draw power from the Dark Side, but out of the heat of the moment the emotion just wasn’t as strong or fierce. 

Vader circled around him. “Perhaps you are not properly motivated,” he said, as though sensing the direction of Luke’s thoughts. Luke checked his shields - still strong. It just wasn’t that hard to guess, he supposed. “Shall we summon the Fifteenth Sister? Your weakness in caring for her may yet prove a useful tool.”

Luke felt a flare of protective rage, and _there_ was the hate. Before it could subside, still in that first rush of emotion, he grabbed onto it and the Force through it, and _pushed_. Sparks crackled, and then spat from his fingers in a branching line of wild energy. 

It didn’t last long, and Luke was barely able to control it in that brief stretch of time, but it was still lightning. 

Luke dropped his hand and shook out the tingling numbness from it. There was a faint sensation of heat behind his eyes, and he reached up to rub at them briefly. “Urgh. What _is_ that?” he said, mostly muttering to himself. Vader heard it anyway. 

“ _T_ _hat_ is the sign of a true Sith,” he said. Luke remembered how he had looked in Ninth Sister’s memory of him, his eyes burning gold, and was suddenly sure they had turned that same colour once again. “It is a mark of the depth of your connection to the Dark Side. As your studies progress young one, the colour should become permanent.”

If that was so, Luke hoped it wasn’t going to itch like this the whole time. Other than that, he wasn’t sure he knew how he felt about this. He supposed he was meant to be proud but… it was just a cosmetic change. It might even be dangerous if it showed others how powerful he was. It was probably too late to hide that entirely given that he was now training with Lord Vader personally, but Luke felt it was better to be underestimated. Vader might have decided not to treat him like a threat to his position, but other Inquisitors or even the Emperor himself might not be so complacent. 

“Now,” Vader told him. “Begin again.” 

Luke focused on feeling the depths of his hate and did as he was told. 

\----

**4 BBY - Jagomir, Esstran Sector, Outer Rim Territories**

“There’s no Jedi temple down there,” Luke said as they broke through cloud cover and a landscape of swamps and rivers was laid out before them. Third Brother glanced over at him. Ever since Listehol he was actually spending time with Luke rather than shutting him out, although they still didn’t talk much. 

“You’re confident about that,” he said, with a ghost of a smile. 

“There’s nothing Light Side about this planet,” Luke replied. There was only the comforting blanket of the Dark. “Why are we here?”

“Sometimes we’re sent to get artefacts from old Sith places,” Cal said, with a loose shrug. “The Emperor has a collection of them.”

That was interesting. Luke was sure he didn’t share them except with Vader, but the idea had awakened his curiosity. Although they hunted Jedi artefacts he’d never made what should have been an obvious connection, that Sith would have such things too. He went back to staring out through the viewscreen. Third Brother skimmed the shuttle low over stands of trees and as they rapidly covered the klicks Luke saw their destination appear over the horizon. The building was tall and made of dark stone, the sides sloping inwards towards a flattened platform on top. It had much more in common with Vader’s fortress than any Jedi Temple simply in its architecture. Even without the Force there wouldn’t have been any chance of mistaking this place as one that had anything to do with that order. 

Cal circled it. “No obvious entrance,” he said. “Of course. That would be too easy.”

“Have you been to Sith temples before?” Luke asked. 

Third Brother nodded, but didn’t say anything more. He brought the shuttle down carefully into an open patch of swamp, letting the vacuum-proof hull displace water like a boat. They bobbed there gently, and Luke staggered slightly on the way to the exit ramp. This was a new sensation, but kind of exciting because of it. 

“Going to have to swim to shore,” Third said, fiddling with the hatch controls. 

Luke hadn’t thought about that. “Um,” he said. “I can’t swim.”

“What?” Cal said, turning to stare at him with raised eyebrows. Seeing that this wasn’t Luke’s idea of a bad joke, he sighed and shook his head in mostly frustration. “Why… no, never mind. Guess I’ll have to flag that up as a gap in the training regime. You’ll have to just float - I can pull you in.”

Luke winced; this sounded a little humiliating. “I grew up on a desert planet,” he said, feeling a need to explain. “What exactly do you want me to do?”

“Humans are sort of buoyant,” Third said. He hit a button and the ramp started to lower itself, stopping short of its normal extension so that it was roughly parallel to the surface of the water. “I’ll swim over first, then you get in on your back. Try to relax and take deep breaths. I’ll Force-pull you to the bank.”

Luke nodded. Third Brother leapt from the end of the ramp and disappeared under the murky surface, coming up again some distance away and then starting to propel himself forwards with wide sweeps of his arms. Luke watched, fascinated. That didn’t seem _too_ hard. Still he wasn’t about to try to learn in the middle of the mission . Cal pulled himself up and walked out onto the shoreline, such as it was. He gestured for Luke to follow. 

Luke sat down on the edge of the ramp and winced as cold water immediately filled his boots, wicking up the fabric of his trousers. There was a weird, organic smell to it that wasn’t appealing. He took a deep breath and pushed off, twisting to be face-up as he did so. His head dipped almost under the water and he spent a few moments flailing and trying not to panic before he managed to get into the position Cal had talked about. He felt his wet uniform and its plasteel armour plates weighing him down, and most of him was still submerged, but he wasn’t sinking. 

Third Brother’s Force-presence wrapped around him and tugged. Before long Luke found himself being pulled up onto mud, and he turned over and scrambled out himself. It was still boggy and damp and the ground shifted underfoot, but it was possible to walk. 

Third turned without a word and led the way towards the black monolith of the temple. It wasn’t far, and the ground became more solid the closer they got. Of course it had to be built on proper foundations or it would have collapsed by now. 

The sloping walls appeared blank and featureless from a distance, but up close Luke saw that they were covered in traceries of lines and circles, strange runes he didn’t recognise. Third Brother reached out to touch them, pulling the Dark Side to him. The runes lit up at his touch, glowing a soft red around his hand. The light pulsed a few times, and then several adjacent runes to the right came on as well. “Directions,” Cal said quietly. 

They followed the temple’s instructions for a few hundred feet along the base of the wall and then the red glow spread even more, forming the outline of a door. “These temples need a pair to get in,” Third said, beckoning Luke over. “Traditionally it would be the two Sith Lords, but the temples don’t actually make the distinction.”

“So you had a different partner the last time you explored one?” Luke asked. He put his hand on the doorway next to Cal’s, not missing the slight wince the man made at his question. There was a deep grinding noise, and a slab of stone slid inwards then upwards, revealing a passageway into the temple. 

“I did,” Third said, and went inside. He took his lightsaber from his belt and lit it, raising it above his head to illuminate their path. “Careful. Sith temples have just as many tricks as Jedi ones. Some are the same - basic traps and so on - and some… aren’t.”

Luke was desperately curious, but he’d learned already he wasn’t going to get anywhere with Cal by prodding him to answer. He raised his own saber to add to their light and reached deeper to the Force. He had already been aware of the touch of the Dark Side suffusing this whole planet and it was even more concentrated within these walls. In some ways the experience was a bit like slipping into the swamp had been - cold and close to the skin - but here, he knew how to swim. The temple was silent but watchful. Luke was certain in some way it knew they were here. 

Third Brother was right - there were a few places where they had to leap over portions of the floor that crumbled beneath them, but the Dark gave them more than enough warning. It felt like these were far from the real tests - or at least tests for people like them. After a while they came out of the tunnel into a wide room that stretched upwards far above them. There was no sign of another exit, but the centre of the space was taken up by a series of platforms staggered symmetrically around a central pillar. The implication seemed obvious. 

“Do you want me to go first?” Luke said, gesturing to the platforms with a smile. 

“It’s all yours,” Cal replied. 

Luke focused and pulled the Force into his body, lending strength and power to his muscles. He took a running jump and bounced off the central pillar to land on the first platform. He was tensing to make the next leap when the stone tilted underneath and sent him sliding - he had a bare moment to gather the Darkness and slow his fall, landing in a crouch that was less than elegant. 

“Fierfek!” he swore, and glared upwards. The platform had tilted all the way down so that it was flush with the pillar, but slowly and with the grinding noise of old mechanisms, it moved back upwards until it had returned to its original position. 

“At least it wasn’t a deadly trap,” Third Brother said. He started to circle the pillar, studying the platforms with an expression of deep concentration. 

“Is it testing our speed?” Luke asked, standing up. “I’m not sure how much faster I could have been.”

“No,” Cal said, completing his circuit. “The platforms are mirrored - two set directly opposite each other. I think this is about the Master and the Apprentice again. We have to go up together, in synchrony.”

That was unexpected, and required a level of cooperation Luke wouldn't have thought the Sith approved of. Teamwork was closer to friendship than the eventual and inevitable backstabbing Ninth Sister had tried to get him to accept. Then he realised there was a more practical problem. "The pillar is going to be between us," he said. "Do we just call out when we're going to jump up to the next set?"

“Shouting might not be precise enough,” Third said. “The Sith could have used a Force bond, but we should be find just using the Force to maintain an awareness of each other.”

“A Force bond?”

“A kind of mental link,” Third explained. “One we don’t have and… more trouble than it was worth sometimes.” For a moment he looked very sad, but quickly forced the emotion away. “Let’s go. Better to spend as little time in a place like this as possible.”

They moved to take up positions on each side of the central pillar and Luke reached out his awareness, wrapping his attention around Third Brother’s presence, held back only by the presence of his shields. He sensed Third doing the same to him - it was an odd feeling but not unpleasant. He sent a pulse in the Dark towards Third and it was echoed, and when Cal’s legs bent and his muscles tensed to jump it was easy now to mirror him. 

They landed on the first platforms at the same instance, and it was simple from there. In great, timed leaps they ascended. The exit came into view, another corridor cut into the black stone of one wall, and they hit the ground there rolling and came up as one. 

“It worked!” Luke said, smiling with the pleasure of physical exertion and the Force flowing through his veins. 

Third gave him a very brief smile in return. “We’re not at the vault yet,” he said. 

No, and there would be more tests along the way. 

This new corridor sloped down slightly, and Luke wondered how close they were to the apex of this truncated pyramid. After a hundred feet or so it opened out into another chamber, much smaller than the last. Two large inlays of what looked like gold were set into the far wall, but no obvious way forwards. Cal went over to examine the reliefs, and Luke followed. 

Both reliefs depicted the same scene. At the top was a depiction of the temple, and a figure in a concealing robe stood below it, arms outstretched. Arcing below the arms and cupping most of the lower half of the inlays came a set of feathered wings. People were kneeling in that gap between the wings, arms raised up in supplication, rapturous expressions on their moulded faces. 

“Who are these people?” Luke said, mostly wondering to himself. 

“Ancient history,” Cal said. “One of the Sith who built this place, and their acolytes, or servants, or slaves. I doubt there’s any way to find out the truth now - there’s nothing in Imperial records about this planet’s past.”

“That’s a pity,” Luke said, reaching out to brush a hand across the gold. The moment his fingers touched the surface a spark of pain shot through them, and he pulled his hand back involuntarily. 

“What?” Cal said, looking concerned. 

“It… it was like an electric shock,” Luke said, looking down at the tips of his fingers. There was no sign of damage. 

Third sighed. “Another test,” he said. “One we’ll both be very used to.”

Luke knew exactly what he meant. Preparing himself, he reached out once more as Cal copied him on the other side, and put his hands flat against the inlay. The sharp pain was just as instant, but he was ready for it now. He let it in, felt it, and fed the Dark Side with it. The Dark flowing through him gave him the strength to resist as the intensity grew, a burning sensation spreading down his arms and into the rest of his body. The temple would not accept those too weak to endure. 

Luke had no idea how long it took. He lost himself in sensation and in the Force. After a while, the pain ebbed away and the carving slid slowly upwards. He blinked, coming back to himself. There was another chamber beyond, with various doors and passages coming off from it. What caught his attention though was the massive slab of plain obsidian set in its centre, with a red, pyramidal holocron floating in midair above it. 

He’d seen holocrons before, retrieved from Jedi Temples. Those had been blue and cube-shaped, but he recognised this thing for what it was even so. 

Cal walked over and examined the holocron from all angles. 

“You think there’s more traps?” Luke asked. “More tests?”

“It seems too easy,” Cal replied. 

The Dark Side weighed heavily on this room more so than anywhere else they’d been in the Temple, quiet and still like a held breath. There was something almost peaceful about it though, something comforting. Luke thought it was restful. He didn’t get any sense of danger or malice. 

“Let me then,” he said, and leaned over the stone altar, or table, or whatever it was to grab the holocron. As his fingertips drew near to it though all of the lights went out. His hand closed around nothing. 

The silence was empty, a breath held in anticipation. Luke tried to look around, fumbled with the lightsaber in his hand which should have been on but wasn't, but there was nothing. He wasn't even sure if Cal was still there or if he was entirely alone - when he reached out to the Force he could only feel the temple's heavy weight in the Dark. 

"Third Brother?" he called. 

_Who are you?_ The voice was a whisper in his ear, close as someone standing right behind him. Luke whirled around, but there was nothing. _Who dares to come here? Do you claim to be worthy of the secrets of this place?_

"I am worthy," Luke answered, because no other answer seemed safe. 

Abruptly his lightsaber was working again. Red light illuminated some vast and empty space all around him, where mist roiled across the floor and licked up his boots. There was no sign of movement or company. He held the blade up in a guard position. He didn't trust any of this. Had he actually been transported somewhere, or was this just a vision?

The mist churned. Luke caught movement in the corner of his eye and whirled around to see a shape rise up and dart towards him. He saw the face... and hesitated. 

The shadow wearing Zar's form grabbed him by the throat and bared sharp fangs in his face. Its eyes were glowing embers of yellow and red. Luke tried to pull it off himself, choking, but its grip was like durasteel. He _knew_ it wasn't Zar but some trick, a ghost playing on his friendships, but... No. It wasn't real. Even if it was, Zar had sacrificed himself already. Luke knew what he would have wanted. He brought his lightsaber down across the shadow's arm and it released him, staggering backwards with an unnervingly lifelike howl. Luke strengthened his resolve and stabbed forwards. His blade cut through and dissipated the illusion into streamers of smoke.

He stood there panting, more from emotion than pain. Nothing else had changed. This wasn't the only thing coming. 

The next shadow looked like Banee, but Luke was expecting this now. There was nothing the temple could do to fool him that she was really here - he _knew_ she was far across the galaxy on her own mission. There would be no reason for her to be here, and no reason for her to attack him. He struck her down. Others came, wearing Ninth Sister's form, wearing Vader's - which was a brief moment of terror before Luke took a certain amount of satisfaction in stabbing _that_ ghost. Then one that looked like Third Brother.

Cal _was_ here, somewhere. Luke hesitated. What if...

The Force was clouded. Reaching out to it told him nothing. The shadow that was Third Brother came towards him with its saber lit and no mercy in its eyes. Surely it couldn't be him. He would hesitate, Luke was sure of it. He would doubt, at least a little. Unless he believed completely that the Luke he saw was also an illusion. 

The shadow swung at him and Luke dodged backwards out of the way - it was certainly trying to kill him! He parried the next few blows, thinking furiously. There was no way to know for sure. The temple was making sure of that. He could only guess. Everything earlier had been about teamwork, hadn't it? The climb, the pain... Why would the temple want them to turn on each other now? Why would it make them fight? To see if they would _let_ the other kill them? That didn't make sense. If it wanted a sacrifice... Luke knew enough about sacrifices at this point. They were meant to be chosen. Willingly given up. Tricking them into it wasn't a sacrifice.

Maybe the temple didn't want that teamwork to go _too_ far. The Sith Apprentice was meant to learn from the Master, but in the end they were still expected to kill them to ascend. Perhaps this test symbolised that?

Luke had to make a choice; the shadow's attacks were growing ever stronger and he could only stay on the defensive for so long. He lunged, a quick series of blows that drove the shadow backwards, drawing the strength of the Dark Side to him, and then the opportunity came. He slipped past the ghost's defence and sank his lightsaber into its heart. It burst apart in black smoke, and then he was back in that room in the Temple. With Cal. Their lightsabers were locked together, perfect mirrors of each other. 

Luke blinked. 

"Does it expect us to keep fighting?" he asked under his breath, as though that would stop the temple from hearing him. 

Third Brother looked blank for a moment, and then seemed to shake himself out of it. He relaxed backwards, out of his fighting stance. "I don't think so," he said. He glanced towards the stone dais, or sarcophagus, or whatever it was. The holocron still hovered there innocently. "Touch it and see?" he suggested. 

"Sure," Luke said, sighing. He hoped the vision-world didn't come back. He went over and leaned in again - there was a brief tug before whatever had been holding the holocron up gave way and it dropped into Luke’s hand, heavier than he’d expected. There was a very faint vibration from it like the beating of a tiny heart. It felt alive but sleeping. 

Cal and Luke gave it a moment, but nothing unpleasant happened. 

“I… guess that’s it then,” Third Brother said. 

“What about those other tunnels?” Luke asked. 

Cal shook his head. “Whatever’s down there isn’t what we were sent to collect. Best leave it alone.”

Luke nodded. "What did you see, in the vision?" he asked. 

"People I used to know," Third Brother said. 

"People you cared about?" 

"I'd rather not talk about it."

Luke winced slightly at his tone. Okay then. He wouldn't push. He kept hold of the holocron all the way back to the ship, cradling it in his hands, not wanting to put it away in his belt. There was something about it that was calling to him.


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Luke has an enlightening conversation, advances in his training, and lays down an ultimatum he's not sure he can enforce.

**4 BBY - Inquisitorius shuttle** **_Eliminator_ ** **, above** **Jagomir, Esstran Sector, Outer Rim Territories**

Luke didn’t mean to open the holocron. Cal was in the cockpit calculating their jump back to Mustafar and Luke had the cargo compartment to himself. Spending the time in meditation to while away the long hours in hyperspace was his preferred way of staving off boredom at this point, and he wanted more practise calling on the protective aspect of the Dark. He almost didn’t notice pieces on the holocron click and rotate as he drew the Dark to him, but the warm red light that spilled from it caught his eye. He turned to look, and found that the holocron was hovering again, its four corners separated and orbiting. As he watched, a figure made of glowing black and red smoke rose up from the top of the holocron. 

It spoke, but it wasn’t a language he recognised. 

“I’m sorry, I don’t understand,” he said, holding himself tense and not allowing any hint of fear to slip past his shields. He didn’t know what holocrons were, what they did apart from being a kind of information storage device. He might be making a fool of himself talking to something that couldn’t talk back, but this didn’t feel like a simple recording. Either way, he wasn’t allowed to do this. If he couldn’t figure out how to shut it down again, even the pact of mutual silence he had with Cal wouldn’t save him from Vader’s wrath. 

“You do not know the Sith tongue, Apprentice?” the figure - hologram? Ghost? - said, this time in a strangely accented Basic. The voice sounded female.

“Uhh, no,” Luke said. “I’m not a Sith, and I’m especially not a Sith Apprentice.” Yet. 

“An acolyte then?” she said. “I sense your power child. You are worthy of more.”

“You flatter me,” Luke said, falling back on his diplomatic training. Curiosity was warring with the more sensible part of him. Maybe this being could share its knowledge with him, teach him, but at what cost? It was a Sith artefact - anything it had to give would come with a price, in addition to all of the other consequences. He had turned this thing on; there must be some way to turn it off. 

The woman turned her head, scanning their surroundings. The holocron wasn’t just aware of him then. “Did you retrieve me from my tomb of your own accord?” she asked, “Or were you sent by another?”

Luke caught himself before he started to reply in the plural - better not let her know about Cal unless he had to. “...I was given this mission by Darth Sidious,” he said. 

“What your Master doesn’t know will not hurt them,” the holocron purred. “There is no harm in our conversation.”

“I doubt that,” Luke said. He examined the holocron in the Dark, trying to work out how it functioned. Power buzzed within the metal and crystal, more than he wanted to be prodding at without knowing what he was doing. “If you want us to talk though, you should tell me your name.”

“You sought out my temple without even knowing that? Perhaps your Master does not put much value on your life.”

“The traps weren’t that hard to navigate,” Luke said. Certainly he’d never felt there was any significant danger to _his_ life like she seemed to be suggesting. To Cal’s maybe.

“All alone as you are?” 

He wouldn’t take that bait. “How I retrieved your holocron doesn’t matter. You’re here now, and Lord Sidious will have you soon.”

“Perhaps, acolyte, perhaps.” In the midst of the black smoke that formed her robes her eyes were two glowing embers. “I am Darth Aspis - this name is not familiar to you?”

Luke shook his head. He knew very little about the history of the Sith but talking to the holocron had made him very interested in finding out more. 

“Then I must wonder how long it has been since my death,” Aspis said. “Tell me, how fares the Sith Empire?”

The Empire was only 15 years old. She couldn’t be talking about the same Empire as the one that existed right now - but Luke didn’t know about any previous Sith Empire. His lessons on history only discussed the Republic, that it had existed for millenia slipping further and further into a state of corruption. “My Empire fares well under the command of Darth Sidious,” he said. “Only I doubt it’s the same Empire you knew.”

There were a few moments of silence as the holocron thought. “I am to be taken to the Sith Emperor himself then. I should feel honoured. Yet why are you so certain this is not the Empire I knew?”

“It hasn’t been around long enough.” Luke supposed he had to explain, and he was invested in this conversation now. It had already gone on too long for him to escape some kind of punishment when the Sith Lords found out he’d opened it and as well be shot for a bantha than a calf. “The Empire rose from the ashes of the Galactic Republic, and before that the Sith were in hiding, so far as I know.”

“And the Jedi?” 

“Died with the Republic - or most of them did,” Luke said. That seemed to please Aspis at least. 

“Still I find it hard to credit that the Sith Empire I knew was so utterly defeated,” she said. “How many Sith lineages survived this period of hiding to rise again now?”

Luke frowned. “I’m not sure what you mean by lineages. There are only two Sith, right? The Master and the Apprentice? That’s how it works.”

Her eyes flashed with intense red light, and Luke sensed anger in the Dark like catching the last reverberations of an echo. “That is _not_ how it works,” she said. “There are many Sith Lords in the Empire, many noble lineages stretching back over centuries or even millenia! Do you claim the Jedi killed all but one of those lines? Do not lie to me child!”

“I’m not lying!” Luke said. “That’s what I’ve been taught!”

The flash of anger subsided into something more slow-burning. “Your Master Sidious has kept you ignorant. If you wish to learn, I can teach you the truth.”

“He’s going to notice if I don’t hand your holocron over,” Luke pointed out. “I’m not sure how much you can teach over the course of one hyperspace journey.”

“At least tell me this new Sith Emperor is making some efforts to restore the lost lineages,” Darth Aspis said. “How many Apprentices has he trained?”

“I thought a Sith Apprentice became a Master by killing their Master. So… how could he train more than one?”

Another flare of anger. “I hope he is simply lying to you boy,” she said. “If death was required, how could our numbers ever grow? No, the Apprentice must _defeat_ the Master, proving their worth and that they have nothing more to learn. Then they either strike out on their own to carve out a new domain amongst the stars, or remain with their former Master to lend their strength to the lineage and the Apprentices that will come after. Which isn’t to say Sith don’t kill each other.” She laughed. “There’s plenty of infighting. Still, all Sith know who the true enemies are - the Jedi and the Light.”

“Perhaps Lord Sidious doesn’t think he needs to increase the number of Sith Lords now the Jedi are almost all dead,” Luke suggested. 

Aspis snorted. “Almost all? So some do still survive? Then the Sith are not safe, and it is the height of foolishness to risk our history and knowledge in a single line of one Master and one Apprentice. What if the Jedi managed to kill your Lord Sidious before his Apprentice is fully trained? What if both were to perish? Then everything the Sith are risks being lost forever!”

“I’m sure Darth Sidious and Darth Vader are more than a match for any Jedi.”

“The Jedi can always get lucky,” Darth Aspis said. There was so much venom in those words that it seemed personal. Luke wondered if she was speaking from experience. 

“You can tell Lord Sidious all this yourself when you reach him,” Luke said. 

“Oh, I will,” she said. “As for you acolyte, do you have any questions I might answer, or will you let your ignorance continue?”

Luke shuffled slightly closer to her, sending a brief flicker of his awareness towards Cal. He was still in the cockpit, and didn’t look to be moving any time soon. “Can you tell me more about the Sith Empire, as it used to be?” 

The faint hint of a smile was visible in the shadow and smoke. “Of course, child.”

\----

 **4 BBY - Inquisitorius Complex,** **Mustafar, Atravis Sector, Outer Rim Territories**

Darth Aspis’ holocron closed itself back up when Luke warned it they’d dropped out of hyperspace, and he packed it away again and handed it off to Cal once they landed back on Mustafar. He headed to his room in the Inquisitorius building with his head buzzing, distracted enough that he almost got turned around more than once. When he finally reached his destination he flopped down onto the bed and stared up at the ceiling, thinking. Aspis had described a thriving, vibrant society of Sith Lords of various ranks and abilities, multiple systems and domains linked loosely together under the banner of an Emperor ruling from the ancient Sith homeworld, Korriban. The Sith Empire had been in a constant state of war against the Jedi and the Galactic Republic, and from how she had described it, it hadn’t exactly been a kind society. 

Had it been worse than the Empire now? Worse than the Republic in the final years of its decline? That was hard to say. He’d only gotten part of the picture. Still, that part wasn’t what was important. The important bit was that it offered a path forwards without death and the knowledge that even for Sith Lords, power could be shared. It was another shape for the world to be. 

Cal hadn’t appeared to notice anything off about their trip, and with the holocron closed again there was no obvious evidence that Luke had opened it. That didn’t mean there wasn’t some sign in the Force that a Sith would pick up on, but there wasn’t anything he could do about it now. Either Darth Vader would call for him and punish him, or he wouldn’t. 

Luke’s drift into sleep wasn’t exactly easy, but there was an undercurrent of hope in his mind that simply felt _good._

\----

Darth Vader did summon him the next day, but it wasn’t because of anything to do with the holocron. 

“I hope you have been practising your meditation,” the Sith said, when Luke joined him in the room between the spires. As usual his presence was a heavy weight that spread out far beyond the confines of his fortress, unmistakably intertwined both with this castle and the greater energies of Mustafar itself. Luke was starting to get used to being the focus of his regard, as overwhelming as that could be. 

“Yes, my lord,” he said, joining Vader in the centre of the space. The clouds pressed down above them, lower than usual and almost wreathing the tips of the spires in dark fog. The sight held a stark beauty, much like the lava, or the fortress itself. 

“You are more centered in the Dark,” Vader said. That was almost a compliment, and it took Luke briefly off guard. He hadn't noticed anything himself, unless you counted exploring that other, protective, aspect of the Dark Side. Surely that wasn’t what Vader meant? 

“You will demonstrate Force lightning again,” the Sith instructed. “If you do so to my satisfaction, we may move on to another stage of your training.”

Now that had Luke’s interest. He wanted to learn anything Vader had to teach him, any secrets of the Sith that he was willing to share. He still knew very little about the man, and before speaking to Darth Aspis he hadn’t cared to know more. Now though he was curious about the relationship between Darth Vader and Darth Sidious, which of the many Sith lineage they might belong to - these things Aspis had barely had time to properly describe. He hadn’t thought of the Sith as a people, as a culture, before now. It was like getting a brief glimpse behind a curtain that had been dropped again, leaving him aching to know more. 

Luke called on his hate, and it answered him more easily after all that practise had trained it into the pathways of his mind. He thrust it outside of himself and it cracked into being as branching lightning that rippled across the floor, leaving char-marks behind. 

From the clouds above real lightning flashed, and thunder rolled out a few breaths later making Luke jump. Vader said nothing, but Luke sensed a dark humour spilling past his shields into the Force like water spilled on sand, quickly there and gone. 

Luke was almost certain that had been a coincidence - he sensed nothing unusual about the weather through the Force. Lightning storms were fairly common here, stirred into being and seeded by the volcanic activity. He shouldn’t have let himself react - but Vader had been amused rather than contemptuous. That was a good sign. 

“It will suffice,” the Sith said. “Follow me.”

He turned on his heel and left the room, his cloak flapping behind him. Luke shook himself out of his moment of uncertainty and did as he was told. He didn’t feel at ease enough with Vader to ask where they were going, keeping his eagerness in check. They took a turbolift down a few floors. Standing there in silence with the Sith Lord should have felt deeply awkward, but instead it was sort of companionable. Vader didn’t seem like the sort of person who would engage in idle chit-chat anyway, even with people on the same social level as him, or his friends - although Luke hadn’t seen any evidence of him having friends. 

Vader led him to a large hall not that different in layout from the one where Luke and Banee had fought him. Luke stopped in the doorway, the joint between his arm and prosthesis aching. For a brief, dizzying moment he was there again waiting for his turn to prove himself, seething with anger. 

Then he was back to himself, back in reality. Vader was waiting for him to enter. Luke steeled himself and walked past the threshold. It wasn’t the same room. The dimensions were slightly different, and he now noticed a number of droids standing around the walls, currently inactive. “Combat training?” Luke asked. 

“Correct,” Vader said. “The lessons you have been given until now have been limited, as mere Inquisitors do not need to know more. You however, show greater potential.”

Luke’s heart almost skipped a beat, a mixture of joy and anticipation. This was the area he knew for sure he couldn’t beat the Sith in, the area he had to improve if he wanted his ambition to succeed. These lessons were exactly what he needed. “Thank you, my lord,” he said. “I am eager to learn.”

“I can feel that,” Vader said. He motioned Luke closer. “The style you have been taught is a derivative of Shien, the fifth form. There are seven forms, and you must become at least passable in all of them if you are to master the Sith’s traditional form of Juyo, although we may discover your skills lie elsewhere. Ignite your lightsaber.”

Luke almost fumbled the hilt in his eagerness to do so. He relaxed into a basic guard stance and lit the blade, feeling the vibrations of the crystal as the pitch of its constant scream-song changed slightly. 

“We will begin with Form I,” Vader said, drawing forth his own blade. “Follow my stances.”

\----

**4 BBY - Fortress Vader, Mustafar, Atravis Sector, Outer Rim Territories**

Luke left the training salle sweating and sore but with the warm buzz of pleasure and achievement under his skin. His body might be tired but he was full up and bursting with the Dark Side and he knew he could have pushed himself to do more. The last mission he and Cal were on had been a short one, and he’d been back on Mustafar for enough time for Darth Vader to really get to work on his saber skills. Sparring with him was… something else. They hadn’t gotten into that storm-surge whirlwind in the Force that had been their first fight, but Luke could feel the Dark tugging him on at times, spurring him closer and closer to that point of perfect rage. 

This was sparring though, not a real fight. He wouldn’t get anything from that except a collapse later when all the damage to his muscles and the rest of his body he’d used the Force to ignore caught up with him. 

Darth Vader was pleased with his progress. That meant more than Luke had expected it to. The Sith was a better and more patient teacher than he’d imagined, and each of these new lightsaber techniques he demonstrated seemed to fall into place as though they were things Luke had forgotten and just needed to be reminded of. 

“It is the strength of the Dark Side flowing through you,” Vader had said, when Luke brought this up. “You are a natural with a blade, young one. It will come easily to you.” 

He must be right. Luke didn’t think it was just down to the Sith’s skill at teaching - and it stung to give him even that much credit. Luke had to admit though that it was becoming harder to hate Darth Vader. It wasn’t because he _wanted_ to stop hating him, but as much as he reminded himself about the evils the Sith was responsible for, now that Luke was spending more time with him he felt that fire in his heart less and less. 

Luke watched his reflection in the obsidian walls of Vader’s castle as he walked back to the shuttle pad. Unclear and warped as the image was, he could still see yellow eyes flashing against the background of black stone. The Dark prickled inside him with wild energy, tight and hot. That yellow tint was sticking around longer and longer after the training sessions, just as Vader had promised. It was usually gone by the time he went out again with Cal, but one of these days it wouldn’t be, and he wasn’t sure what Cal’s reaction would be. 

Cal trusted him now, he thought. He hoped. They were friends, or as close as Cal would let himself come to that. There was still a reserve, but he couldn’t honestly say Cal was wrong to protect himself emotionally. They might not want to harm each other but that didn’t mean circumstances of some kind wouldn’t make it necessary. 

The golden tint still hadn’t faded by the time Luke returned to the main Inquisitorius complex. He thought about going back to his room to wait it out, but his stomach was starting to cramp with reawoken hunger driven by all the recent physical activity. He headed towards the mess hall instead. It was an odd hour, so there shouldn’t be too many people there and who cared if a few Purge Troopers saw him with Sith eyes? 

Luke wasn’t that lucky. There were only a few people in the mess, yes, but one of them was an Inquisitor he didn’t recognise. Luke hadn’t sensed him in the Force but then he hadn’t been looking, just basking in the background roil and fury that was natural to Mustafar. He stopped in the doorway wondering if he should come back later. The Brother had his back to him, flicking through the flavour packets next to the nutrient dispensers. As Luke started to edge away, the other Inquisitor’s head snapped up and towards a small trio of clones who had just sat down. He left his bowl behind and stalked over to them, anger in every line of his body and swirling in the Force as well. Luke paused, not sure what was going on. He hadn’t managed to get a good look at the Brother’s face yet - the sides of his helmet were getting in the way - but the man had a lanky yet graceful frame. His hands and feet marked him out as an alien rather than a very skinny human - his feet had two toes at the front and one behind, and his hands had two fingers and two thumbs. 

“You!” the Inquisitor snarled, and the Purge Trooper he’d addressed looked up and went very still. “You took the last nerf-steak packet.” His hand slammed down on the table between the three clones. “You meat-clankers know better than to take the last of anything - a real person might want it.”

The clone looked down at the table, shrinking into himself. “You’re right sir,” he said. “I… I apologise. I thought they were going to be restocked soon…”

“I don’t care what you thought…” the Inquisitor started to say, his other hand on the hilt of his lightsaber, but Luke had seen enough. 

“Hey!” he shouted, striding into the room and calling the Dark to him like a cloak. “What do you think you’re doing?”

The Inquisitor looked up, just as eager to turn his anger on a new target before what he saw made him visibly pause and think again. His eyes narrowed as he looked Luke over. “You’re new,” he said. “You must be Fifteenth Brother - the one the others are gossiping about.” He briefly met Luke’s gaze and flinched away. Luke guessed his eyes were still yellow - if the colour had been about to fade drawing on the Dark in this kind of threat display would certainly have brought it back. “I hear Lord Vader favours you.”

“Obviously you know who I am,” Luke said, making no effort to keep his anger out of his tone. “But I don’t know you.”

“Eighth Brother,” the Inquisitor said. He straightened up and took a few steps away from the table, facing Luke directly. 

“You didn’t answer my question, Eighth Brother.”

Eighth bared his teeth in a brief flash of disgust. “Oh no,” he said. “You’re not baiting me into a fight that easily. If you really want to challenge me, do it openly - but I promise you that you won’t be moving up in the ranks today.”

Luke was caught off balance by this accusation and what it assumed about his motives. “I’m not baiting you,” he said. “I’m asking you not to be such a di’kut.” He wasn’t actually sure what that word meant, but he’d heard the Purge Troopers throw it around at each other often enough to guess from context. 

Eighth gave him a wary look, as though he was trying to work out Luke’s angle. “What are you objecting to, exactly?” 

That just sparked Luke’s temper off more. “What, like you don’t know?” he said. “There’s no reason to treat the troopers like that.”

The other Inquisitor’s eyes narrowed. “Is this some poor attempt to test me on philosophy, youngling? There’s every reason. Because I want to. Because they mean nothing. Because I have power and they don’t. Because I can. Isn’t that enough?”

Luke supposed it was, matched against what Ninth Sister had taught him. Do what you have to to achieve your aims. Make whatever choices you could, and accept their consequences. Follow your desires. If what Eighth Brother wanted was to hurt other people, then there was nothing in the creed of the Dark and the Sith that would stop him. 

Only Eighth wasn’t the only person here who got to make choices. 

“That’s enough of a reason, yes,” he said. “Only, I don’t want you to.”

Eighth was tense, clearly expecting this to come to a fight at some point. Still, he didn’t seem to want to be the one to make the first move. Was that because he feared Vader’s wrath in messing with his ‘favourite’? Because there was some kind of weakness implied in going after someone lower down the chain than you? Or because he wasn’t as sure he would as he claimed. “Why don’t you want me to?” he asked. “You still haven’t answered that question.”

“I don’t need to have any more of a reason than you do,” Luke replied. “And it doesn’t matter anyway what my reason is, because you wouldn’t care no matter how good it was, would you? So either stop and accept that they’re under my protection, or fight me.”

“So you are picking a fight.”

Luke called his lightsaber to his hand, though he didn’t ignite it yet. “I guess I am.”

Eighth’s expression was solid, showing neither pleasure or fear, but Luke sensed a flicker of trepidation from behind his shields anyway. With a quick tug of the Force he pulled his helmet closed, powered up his saber and jumped forwards. Behind him the Purge Troopers scattered backwards to get well out of the way. Luke lit his own blade and met Eighth’s blow with Force-assisted strength. He reached for the Dark Side, knowing he would need all of its power to fight past the trembling tiredness of his muscles after that long spar earlier. 

He probably should have expected it given his mood and emotions at the time, but it was the warm surge of the protective Dark that answered his call, rather than the usual fire-spitting burn that gathered and magnified his hate and anger. He felt it itch behind his eyes all the same though, and it felt easy to push back against the other Inquisitor as their blades sparked together and he threw him stumbling back. 

Luke fell into a pattern of attacks that flowed like the desert winds, a strange sense of calm in his heart. Or perhaps calm was the wrong word. It was control, it was being in the eye of the storm. His emotions and the Dark drawn and controlled by them whirled around him and guided his body through each attack and block and dodge, but at the core of himself he was solid and determined. He was fixed on his goal and he knew he would achieve it. There was no crack of doubt in him. 

Eighth Brother was soon driven back onto the defensive as their fight took them dancing from one end of the mess-hall to the other. His anger grew with his desperation, and he drew strength from that rather than letting it shatter his focus. Luke was deep enough in the Force that he almost seemed to see ghosts of movement around Eighth’s limbs, the future mapped onto the present. He reacted without thinking, guided by the Dark - their fight had a sense of inevitability to it that made it feel even more like a dance with preordained steps, one that had already been decided before they even began. Luke followed it on towards the end, dodging strikes that would have ended his life if they’d connected, and pressing the other Inquisitor ever closer to the edge of exhaustion. 

Finally Eighth had tired to the point that he was just a little too slow. Luke swept his feet out from underneath him and as Eighth twirled mid-air with remarkable agility, completed his own turn and kick to send the lightsaber spinning out of his hand and across the length of the room. Eighth landed crouched with the point of Luke’s lightsaber just under his chin. 

“Stop,” Luke said, layering his command with the Force automatically, feeling it shuddering against Eighth’s shields. The other Inquisitor swayed briefly, and Luke felt him reach out towards where his saber hilt had fallen. Luke snarled and pinned the lightsaber against the floor, not letting him call it. “I said stop. Unless you _want_ to die?”

Eighth Brother’s disbelief was loud in the Force. “That’s not how this works,” he said. “What is _wrong_ with you?”

“Maybe it doesn’t serve my goals to kill you,” Luke said. 

“Then why fight in the first place!” Eighth shouted at him, his whole body practically vibrating with frustration and rage. 

“Because apparently that’s what it takes to get you to do what I want!” Luke shouted back. “Like I said, the Purge Troopers are under my protection now and I don’t want you or anyone else messing with them just because you like to feel their pain!”

“And if I don’t do what you want?” Eighth said. “Will you only kill me then? It’s not much of a warning without consequences.”

“I don’t have to kill you to make you sorry for crossing me,” Luke said. This really wasn’t the way he had wanted things to go. He was still standing in the midst of the protective aspect of the Dark but he could feel other parts of it nipping around the edges, whispering _yes, hurt him, hurt him, make him suffer, taste his pain and it will be sweet_. He refused. That was what Eighth had been doing, wanting to see the clones hurt because he and the Dark would both enjoy it. Luke had resisted that for this long - he wasn’t going to give in now. 

Another flicker of fear escaped Eighth Brother’s shields. “What will Darth Vader think of your lack of ambition?” he said. 

“Do you _want_ me to kill you, because it sounds like that’s what you’re trying to achieve,” Luke said. He really did not understand this man. 

Some of the fight went out of Eighth Brother. “No,” he said, looking away. “That’s not… Fine. Fine. As you wish, you farked-up little Sithling. Just don’t expect the meat-clankers to thank you or anything. It’s not like they’re people.”

“You’re not helping your case,” Luke said, another hot wave of protective feelings surging over him. 

Slowly Eighth Brother stood up. “Whatever,” he said. “If you’re not going to kill me, can I go eat now? I suppose there must be some decent flavour packets left.” 

Luke glanced over towards the serving area, then winced. At some point during their fight, one of their lightsabers had carved through the wall where the nutrient paste dispenser was. A slow but steady stream of paste was leaking out and gathering into a sticky mound on the floor. “I’d better… let someone know about that,” he said. 

“It’s fine,” Eighth said, casually walking over, grabbing a bowl and scooping some paste into it from the top of the pile. “Still edible.” He straightened up, flicked his helmet open again and licked his hand clean. Then he motioned to his lightsaber. “Do I get that back?”

Luke realised he was still holding it down in the Force. He let go, and Eighth called it to him, hooking it back onto his uniform. 

“Of course you know you won’t just have to fight me over this,” Eighth Brother said conversationally. “The others aren’t going to back down just because you beat me. Of course that means you’ll have to be around here the same time they are - what’s the chances of that happening I wonder? And how much damage might the troopers take in the meantime, hmm?”

“They were getting hurt already,” Luke said. He’d suspected as much just by the way they acted around him, he just hadn’t had proof until now. “That’s on the people doing it, not me.”

“But now everyone’s going to know it’ll piss you off,” Eighth said, bearing his teeth. It was not a smile. “It’ll be a statement, not just a bit of fun to alleviate the boredom. I’m sure those clones are going to be _very_ pleased to be under your ‘protection’.”

Luke took several deep breaths, trying to get his anger under control. It rose from the pit of his stomach and crackled along his nerves, just waiting to be let out. “You’d better warn them about the consequences of that then,” he said, and lifted his hand towards the far wall. 

Lightning cracked. The energy rippled across the benches and earthed itself in the metal ceiling and walls. Luke was watching Eighth Brother rather than it, but from the corner of his eye the colour looked slightly different than what he was used to. Less cold blue-white, a little warmer with a tint of green. 

Eighth went very still, his eyes wide and scared. After a moment, once the lightning had died away, he said, “Oh, I’ll make sure they know.”

“Good,” Luke said.


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Musings on ambition, friendship, and eternal enemies.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a note as people seem to be interpreting the green tint (not full green lightning, more blue-green) as going all the way to Electric Judgement, I'm just going to paste part of one of my comments on the last chapter: My headcanon is that Force Lightning is all about externalising particular emotions, and for the Jedi's Force Judgement that emotion is a desire for justice embedded in the Light. The Sith version as per Sidious is hate and a desire to see someone suffer. Luke is coming down somewhere in the middle, vengance, protection, and so he gets a little bit of a colour change.

**4 BBY - Imperial Palace, Imperial Centre, Corusca Sector, Core Worlds**

Darth Sidious watched the blue-washed security holo-footage from Mustafar play once again and smiled at the moment silent Force lightning burst across the screen in a fuzz of static. The boy was powerful indeed in the Dark Side, even if his attempts at manipulation were rather naive and fumbling. He would gain very little trying to cement a loyal power-base amongst the Purge Troopers, and even if they did respond in some way to this pitiful promise of protection, ultimate control still remained in Sidious’ hands via the chips in their heads. Still the boy could not know that, and it was more ambitious than most Inquisitors even bothered to try. 

That ambition might have been at odds with the fact that the Fifteen Brother had spared the life of his opponent, but in this Sidious saw its own subtlety. The boy must assume that killing another Inquisitor and rising up in the ranks so swiftly would draw even more attention to him, and more immediately than his rather vague demand to stay clear of the Purge Troopers. That demand was something he would not have to back up for some time, given his mission schedule - not so if he proved he was looking to move up in the ranks. Why, in that case his own mentor Third Brother might turn against him in fear of his growing power!

No, the youngling was smarter than that. Besides, it was its own sweet form of cruelty to say to another Inquisitor that they were not even worth killing. To proclaim that he feared retaliation and revenge so little he could afford this apparent mercy. 

Darth Sidious laughed again. Oh yes, this boy showed so much more potential than his current Apprentice. Poor Vader was a fire that had almost burned out. There was little life or ambition left in him, and Sidious had long ago stopped bothering to teach him anything. It wasn’t simply because he enjoyed holding knowledge over Vader’s head - although that was certainly part of it. No, Vader simply wouldn’t _do_ anything with it! His raw power and the embers of his rage might serve him well enough as a blunt instrument but he would never understand the more subtle mysteries of the Sith. 

Of course saying that, the fact that Vader had taken this newest Inquisitorial Brother under his wing perhaps meant that his Apprentice had recovered some flicker of ambition. Yes, Sidious would allow him to continue training the youngling for now, which would save Sidious having to bother to teach such mundanities as lightsaber combat when he took the boy as his own. It would be easy enough to turn the boy to his own side at a point of his choosing - he need only appeal to his clear ambition. It would be obvious that Vader only had so much to offer compared to the true Master of the Sith. 

Vader could plot all he wished. He would never reach his full potential - his failure on Mustafar had ensured that. If he challenged Sidious he would die, and if he did not, he would fall at the hands of Sidious’ new, _better_ Apprentice all the same. 

Yes, all he had to do was wait for the right moment to step in. 

\----

**4 BBY - Inquisitorius Shuttle** **_Eliminator_ ** **, in hyperspace**

Luke opened his eyes to a landscape of long green grass, blue skies, and the faint sound of running water, and knew that he was in the shared dream again. He wandered towards the river, looking around for Leia. A herd of shaak wandered past - he’d never seen one of the massive, bulbous herbivores in real life but he had looked them up after the first few times they’d appeared in this scene. They were farmed on quite a few planets across the Mid-rim and beyond, so it hadn’t helped him narrow down the location at all. 

He caught the faint scent of flowers on the breeze cutting through the animal smell of the shaak, and he followed his nose until he saw Leia lying down in a circle of flattened grass. She must have sensed him coming because she sat up as he approached. 

“Luke!” she said. “I haven’t seen you in a while - I was worried something had happened.”

Luke joined her on the grass, appreciating the way it brushed soft and dry against his skin. “Sorry,” he said. “I've been spending a lot of time somewhere I don't think I can reach you - I never have these dreams while I'm there.”

“Why?” Leia asked. “What’s so special about it?”

Luke hesitated. He still hadn’t told her everything about what he was, or asked her if she had started fighting against the Empire as she thought she’d have to, trying to change it from the outside. Would the name Mustafar mean anything to her? He owed her some kind of answer, even if he wasn't sure how to explain it without damaging their friendship. “How much do you know about the Force?” he asked.

Leia gave him an odd look. “Quite a bit,” she said. “I’ve been training to use it for years now. I didn't realise you knew you were Force-sensitive.”

Luke felt a horrible sinking feeling in his stomach. There weren't many people in the galaxy who could be training her. He was certain he would know if Leia was also an Inquisitor, and although Cal told him there were other Force traditions out there besides the Jedi, the Empire suppressed them with the same eagerness. Light or Dark, if she was trained then the creed of the Inquisitoius marked her as his enemy. She wasn't just some rebel armed with guerrilla tactics, a blaster and improvised explosives. The Imperial Army and Navy dealt with the likes of them, and Luke hadn't _truly_ expected them to meet on opposite sides of a battlefield except by some stroke of very bad luck. This... this was different. If anyone found out what she was...

Luke breathed deep and spoke past his quiet dread. "How did you guess that about me - that I can use the Force?"

"It just makes sense," Leia said, frowning. "Why else would we keep meeting up in dreams like this? Didn't you think the same thing about me - why else ask me about the Force?"

"Is a Jedi training you?" Luke asked. The words came out a little too fast, a little too panicked. Had she noticed?

Leia's gaze hardened. "Yes," she admitted, somewhere between apologetic and defiant. "I know you're studying at an Imperial Academy and I'm sure they've told you all sorts of terrible things about Jedi - that they're traitors and warmongers and dangerous subversives - but that simply isn't true! That's propaganda, you must see that. My teacher is a good, kind man. He wants the galaxy to be a better place, just like we both do, and he wants the memory of his people to survive. I didn't say anything before now because you might think it's your duty to tell someone there are still Jedi out there - a Master and his Padawan, I mean." 

"We both thought the same thing about each other," Luke said. He felt slightly numb. "About being untrained. I shouldn't have assumed. I should have known this was possible."

"Luke..." Leia reached out and took his hands in hers. "I know it's a surprise but... please believe me when I say the Jedi aren't what the Empire claims - when they even bother to acknowledge that they existed. We're trying to help the people of this galaxy - you and I, we still want the same things. Once you've graduated you should come and find me and we can teach you as well. You must have felt so confused being able to touch the Force and having no-one to turn to who could explain what that meant..."

"I haven't told you everything either," Luke said, cutting her off. "We were both wrong about each other. I'm trained too - just not in the Light Side."

Leia dropped his hands - it shouldn't have hurt as much as it did. Luke could tell himself she'd betrayed his trust first, but that wasn't really true. She had every reason to keep secrets. Fear crept into Leia's bright blue eyes - they seemed to glow amongst the flowers that made up her face. “There are only two Sith,” she said.

“I’m not a Sith,” Luke said, trying to reassure her. "I’m an Inquisitor.”

“That’s not better,” Leia said quietly. “I was warned about Inquisitors - they hunt Jedi, and steal Force-sensitive younglings away from their families.”

Luke winced. "Yes, but... I'm not an Inquisitor because I _want_ to be. I was one of those children - my family was killed, right in front of me. It was the Dark Side or death, and I'm not willing to give up like that and let the Empire win. I told you my plan. I’m going to get as much power as I can and I’m going to change things, make them _better_ . The Empire _has_ to change.”

"And what will you have to do along the way?" Leia said. "Or don't you care, really, about hurting people?"

Luke pulled away from her. Her accusations were more sharp stabs of pain inside him. "Why would you say that? Of course I don't want to hurt people, but... We talked about this before! You said you understood the cost of fighting."

Leia looked away, seemingly lost for words. 

"What have the Jedi told you about the Dark Side?" Luke asked, struck by a sudden idea. She'd accused the Empire of lying to him about the Jedi, and wouldn't the Jedi do the same about the Sith? Even the millennia-old holocron he had spoken to talked about the Jedi Order as ancient and mortal enemies. Who wouldn't say terrible things about people they hated?

"My teacher told me that the Dark Side warps people - that once they’re lost to it, there is nothing but evil in their hearts. There’s no going back from it.”

"That can't be true," Luke said, although when it came to some of the other Inquisitors, or the Sith, he did wonder. "Would you say that I'm evil?"

"You're nothing like I would have expected an Inquisitor to be," Leia said. "But maybe everything you've said is a lie."

"It isn't." There wasn't a way to prove it to her, he understood that. He could only show it by his actions, if she gave him that chance. Still, he tried to be as persuasive as he could. "The Dark is strength and power and protection. It amplifies whatever you're feeling. Yes, I've been taught to use my anger to channel it, but why would anger be inherently evil? If I wasn’t angry about what the Empire does to people then I wouldn’t care enough to try and change it.”

“What about the Sith?” Leia asked. “Darth Vader, and the Emperor? _They’re_ evil. All they want to do is terrorise people, rule the galaxy through fear and oppression - because that’s what the Dark Side wants.”

“No, that’s what _they_ want," Luke said, feeling a moment of sudden clarity. "The Dark Side is just a tool they use to do it.”

Leia stopped. Thought about that. Luke tried to keep hold of his emotions. He shouldn’t have started talking about any of this. He should have known it was too big a risk, that their friendship might not hold through the stress of it. Even so he hoped Leia wouldn’t hate him. He… he didn’t hate her just because she was a Jedi. He _should_. What he’d been taught about the Jedi Order was pretty awful, but Leia might be right and it was just propaganda. 

It wasn't like it would _have_ to be true for the Sith to want every last trace of the Jedi destroyed. The Jedi had tried to do the same to them, and Luke didn't know if that had been justified on any level. Was it a cycle? Jedi and Sith killing each other back throughout thousands upon thousands of years with the original reasons forgotten and lost to time? Repaying attempted genocide with attempted genocide, reasoning it as necessary to stop revenge for older violence? If one side was more right than the other he didn't have the information to say which. 

"You really didn't know I was a Jedi?" Leia asked him. "This wasn't all... some kind of trap to gain my trust, find out where I am, come and kill me?”

“No!” Luke said, shocked. “Absolutely not! I didn’t tell you everything but… our friendship was real. Is real. Or at least I thought it was.”

“No, I…” Leia closed her eyes briefly, sighing in frustration. “It is real. You don’t seem like a bad person at all. You don’t sound cruel, you really seem to care about others...”

"I haven't thought much about what a Jedi would be like, but you're not what I would have expected either. Not... not dogmatic, or passive and cold and empty."

“That sounds like you’ve thought about it," Leia said.

"My point is that things aren't what either of us have been told." Luke sighed. "So we know the truth about each other now. Is it going to change things?"

"I don't think it does," Leia said, and it lifted some of the weight from Luke's shoulders. "And it's better we found out about all this now rather than when we meet in person.”

"We might not meet," Luke said, which was probably unrealistically optimistic. “You and your Master have gone this long without the Inquisition knowing about you, right? That doesn’t have to change.”

“Oh, they know about my Master at least,” Leia said. “They’ve been looking for him for a while. Why do you think I’ve been warned about Inquisitors?”

That narrowed down her Master's identity more than she realised. The list of Jedi confirmed to be alive was a short one after so many years. Luke decided he wasn't going to check that list unless there was no other choice. The less he knew the better. "We haven't found him yet," he said. "He must be doing something right."

"We aren't going to hide forever," Leia told him. "Once I'm ready we're going to start fighting the Empire and all of the evil things it does, and they'll work out I'm a Jedi eventually. That doesn’t mean we’re bound to meet, but it makes it a lot more likely.”

“I’m too young and inexperienced to be sent after Jedi,” Luke said, although who knew how long that would last. 

“We just have to be prepared for the possibility,” Leia said.

"Maybe we should keep each other updated about our missions?" Luke said, then immediately had second thoughts. "No - that's a bad idea, duty and friendship conflicting like that. It's too much to ask."

"I don't intend to betray you," Leia said. 

"That depends on what it would cost you," Luke said. Ninth Sister hadn't managed to convince him that friendship was foolish, but she'd shown him the limits of trust, of betrayals without choice. "These dreams aren't reliable anyway."

"You were trying to tell me something about that," Leia said - Luke had almost forgotten how this whole conversation had started. 

"Oh, yes," he said. "There's a nexus in the Dark Side - I think when I'm close to it we can't reach each other."

“And you’re there a lot,” Leia said. That seemed to mean something to her. “Where is this nexus?"

“Why would you want to know?” Luke asked. “It’s not like you would have any reason to go there. I can't imagine a Jedi would find it pleasant.” The Light Side versions at some of the temples he'd visited certainly weren't, which wasn't even mentioning Darth Vader's presence.

“It would be useful to know where to avoid,” Leia said. That made sense. 

“It’s on a planet called Mustafar,” Luke said. "You should never go there."

\----

**4 BBY - Alderaan,** **Alderaan System, Core Worlds**

Leia woke up with her thoughts whirling around her head. Luke, the friend she only knew in dreams, was an Imperial Inquisitor. A servant of the Dark Side. She knew what Obi-wan would tell her - that nothing he said or did could be trusted. That the person she knew was a lie concealing something monstrous. Only he had been as surprised to learn she was a Jedi padawan as she’d been when he admitted what he was. He could have lied to her then too. There was no reason for him to tell her the truth if he really did have bad intentions. 

It wasn’t any of those rationalisations that made her believe him though. It was something more instinctive, perhaps something from the Force itself. 

There was an Inquisitorius base on Mustafar. Why else would he spend so much time there? Obi-wan and Ahsoka had been looking for the location of their headquarters for a long time, although Leia didn’t know why. It would be a stronghold full of Dark Side users - not one of Ahsoka’s usual targets for sabotage. Even so she knew it was very important to them - she would have to tell them what she’d learned. 

Should she bring up Luke then? Finally tell her mentors about this dream friendship? 

Obi-wan wouldn’t understand. He was so sure the Dark Side held nothing but evil, and until this moment Leia hadn’t doubted him. Now she wondered. Was it really so simple? Or was it just that the ‘easy and treacherous path to power’, as he’d described it, tended to attract the sort of people who couldn’t be trusted with that power in the first place? She thought back to Obi-wan’s stories of the Republic. The Jedi Order believed the Sith were extinct for almost a thousand years, before Sidious and Vader and the rise of the Empire. If every Dark Sider wanted tyranny that badly, why had they waited for such a long time? It wasn’t to rebuild their numbers - there were only ever two of them, and the Inquisitors didn’t come along until afterwards. Sidious had barely needed the Dark Side to become the Emperor, from what Leia had managed to piece together, just politics. 

No, she couldn’t tell Obi-wan. Ahsoka might be more understanding, but… Could they still trust her if she was in contact with an Inquisitor? Could she trust herself? She didn’t think Luke could see into her mind just because they shared dreams, but when she started on missions for the Rebel Alliance, could she guarantee she wouldn’t let anything slip? 

Leia was confident Luke wouldn’t care and wouldn’t act on any information, but others wouldn’t share that confidence. 

She would just say she’d seen the base on Mustafar in a vision. Obi-wan told her often how strong she was in the Force, and it wouldn’t be the first time she’d seen things like that. Then he could decide what to do with that information and everything could go back to… as normal as things could be.

\----

**4 BBY - Inquisitorius Shuttle** **_Eliminator_ ** **, in hyperspace**

[ _It’s okay_ ,] Beedee chirped to him, bouncing slightly from his place on top of the console. [ _I am functional. You are functional. The other one is functional. Do not be sad.]_

“I’m not sad, Beedee,” Third Brother said, reaching out to pet the little droid. “I’m just thinking.”

[ _About friends?]_ Beedee asked, more observant than Third liked. [ _Do you want me to scramble the comms and make a call?_ ]

Third winced. They couldn’t risk doing that too often, and he wasn’t alone in the shuttle anymore. He reached out briefly in the Force, as much as he could stand it. Fifteenth Brother was a smouldering star behind him, his presence warping the Dark Side around it, fierce and terrible despite there being several durasteel doors and bulkheads between them. He was still sleeping, Third could tell that much. That wasn’t much of a comfort. 

He didn’t understand Fifteenth at all. He was training with Darth Vader personally, he was a Sith in the making, and all Third knew from his time as a Jedi said enough about what Sith were like even without having the two current Lords as examples. He should have been cruel and malicious, he should hurt others as easily as breathing, he should have been what Arkanis made of him. Third Brother had met other Inquisitors who came up out of that training programme. He’d been forced to kill some of them himself. They were rabid animals not… not boys who offered runaway slaves mercy despite knowing the consequences if Third had chosen to betray him. 

Third Brother had expected that whole thing to be a trap for him. Fifteenth Brother might have felt like he was telling the truth, but Sith could lie in the Force if they wanted to. He shouldn’t have done it, shouldn’t have followed the suggestion in that small, easily-deniable shake of the head. Only… he’d done so many terrible things since breaking on Nur. He was tired of it, tired of the siren call of the Dark Side that made murder feel so easy and excusable. In that moment the Dark had been quiet and still, and he’d felt like he could actually choose again. 

So he had, and the punishment had never come. 

Now there was this latest piece of gossip about Fifteenth taking on Eighth Brother over some insult he’d given to a Purge Trooper, defeating him and sparing his life rather than taking the opportunity to advance, then shooting Sith Lightning all over the messhall to make a point. Who knew what that was really about - opinions were mixed. Third thought it might actually be what Fifteenth said it was though - protecting the troopers. 

Third didn’t go around tormenting Purge Troopers, unlike some Inquisitors. Some part of him was still afraid of them. He shouldn’t be - it wasn’t a worthy emotion for a Jedi or an Inquisitor, but when he heard them speak or saw their faces he could only remember clones hunting him through his own ship, trying to kill him. At times he wondered if that was the real reason some of the others wanted to hurt them, a reason they couldn’t speak about because it would mean they still thought about being Jedi. Fifteenth Brother could protect the clones if he wanted to, even if they didn’t deserve it. 

[ _Are you sure you don’t want to call her?_ ] Beedee said. [ _It makes you happier_.]

Bittersweet happiness, but Beedee was right. Anyway, if there was one person who might be able to understand someone like Fifteenth Brother, it would be Merrin. Maybe she could explain what the frak was going on with the kid. 

“Okay Beedee. Put the call through.”

Beedee chirped happily and plugged into the shuttle’s comm system. He beeped quietly until he was done scrambling the signal, and then they could only wait for it to be picked up on the other end. 

It didn’t take long. Merrin didn’t have a lot else to do these days. 

“Cal?” she said, her holo appearing above the emitter. Third Brother had to hold his breath a moment to stop the surge of wild emotion caused just by seeing her face. 

“You aren’t supposed to call me that anymore,” he said gently. 

“Tell me truthfully you want me to stop and I will.” Third just smiled. Merrin nodded. “I thought so. It’s good to see you again Cal. It’s been a while since you last called.”

“I’ve had a hanger-on,” Third Brother explained. 

“They’ve partnered you up?” Merrin said. “It isn’t Second Sister again?”

Third winced slightly. That… hadn’t been a good time. “No, a new Inquisitor. Fifteenth Brother. He’s… strange.”

“Many who use the Dark Side are.”

“He’s strange even by that standard. He’s…” How to even start explaining him. Third changed tack. “Merrin, the magic the Nightsisters use - does it come from the Dark Side?” 

“It comes from the Force,” Merrin said, frowning. “It isn’t the Dark Side as the Sith use it, but I suppose it’s closer to that than the Light. The Jedi said we used the Dark, but we never thought of it like that. You were not told of this by your Jedi Master?”

Third Brother shook his head. “There were a lot of Force sects out there, before the Empire,” he said. “Besides, there was a war on. Learning about their ways wasn’t a priority.”

“Why do you want to know now?”

“Because I know the Dark Side. It thrives on pain, it’s a constant hunger, an undertow that makes me… not the person I used to be. I can’t touch the Light anymore, and Force knows I’ve tried. If I don’t fight it, if I use it any more than what I need to to survive, I’m afraid of what it will do to me. And that’s not the same with you Merrin.”

“I’ve been cruel to you before,” Merrin said. “I attacked you, when you first came to Dathomir.”

“Because you wanted to protect the memory of your sisters - and because Malicos lied to you. Not because you wanted to see me suffer.”

“When I thought you were my enemy I wanted to see you suffer,” she said. “But yes, that was the truth of my own heart, not the Dark.”

“The Fifteenth Brother is like that,” Third said. “He uses the Dark Side, but his heart isn’t dark - or he’s hiding it well.”

Merrin cocked her head. “Do you like him?” 

“I want to like him,” Third Brother said. “I don’t know if that’s smart though.”

“It’s better to have people and lose them than to be lonely forever,” Merrin said. “My sisters are dead, but I cherish every moment we had together before.”

Third bowed his head, letting the moment of sadness pass shared between them. He had never known anyone from Dathomir aside from Merrin, but of all people out there in the galaxy he understood what it was to lose your family, your culture, everything and everyone you’d ever known. 

“Maybe I’ll build a little collection of not-so-dark Dark Side friends,” he said, smiling slightly. 

“I’d like to meet him, this maybe-friend of yours,” Merrin replied. 

“I… don’t think that’s a good idea,” Third Brother said. The idea sent fear shivering down his spine, even if that wasn’t entirely logical. Fifteenth Brother might have kept silent about the slaves but it was hard to shake the instinctive urge to hide. Merrin was a secret he’d kept through the torture that had broken him, a link back to the person he’d been. She was the last thing he had and he couldn't lose her. 

“Not right away,” Merrin said. “Only once you’re sure you can trust him. I haven’t survived the Empire this long without being a little bit cautious.”

“When you aren’t trying to kill foolish Jedi who stumble where they don’t belong,” he said. They shared a grin. 

“I hope you can trust him soon,” Merrin said. “There’s something I’ve been meaning to talk to you about.” There was a serious turn to her words that had Third Brother instantly on edge. 

“What is it?”

“There’s something here on Dathomir. Something new, out in the wilds. It’s far enough from my clan’s home that I didn’t notice it right away, but when I tried to go close the deep magics warned me away. Whatever it is, it’s of the Dark Side. Pain, and loss, and something longing…” She trailed off. “It doesn’t feel alien, and that’s what really worries me. I need help to find out what it is.”

“It sounds like something Inquisitors were made to deal with,” Third Brother said. The way that she described it made him uneasy as well. 

“That’s true. I don’t know when you might be able to come to Dathomir, but bring your new friend. The more the merrier, correct?”

“I’ll come when I can.”

\----

**4 BBY - Alderaan,** **Alderaan System, Core Worlds**

“Mustafar,” Ahsoka said, frowning. The Force had seemed to shudder as Obi-wan said the name, and she caught a brief flash of cinders, red light, the scent of ash and burnt things. _“I loved you!”_ An echo of a shout in her grand-master’s voice. There was only one person he could have been talking to. 

“There’s no reason you would ever have heard of it,” Obi-wan said, his voice remarkably calm given how tightly she could feel him clamping down on his shields. “It’s a mining world in the Outer Rim - or it once was. The surface has high levels of volcanic activity.”

“So why did you recognise it?” she asked. 

Obi-wan didn’t meet her eyes. “Anakin died there,” he said, confirming just what she’d feared. Next to her, Rex sucked in a breath of sudden understanding and sorrow. 

“Why were the two of you even out there?” he asked.

“That’s where Darth Vader was,” Obi-wan said, passing his hand briefly over his eyes. Memory weighed heavily down on his shoulders and for a moment he looked more tired than she had ever seen him. 

“And Leia saw this place in a vision?” Ahsoka said, to make sure they were all on the same page. “The Inquisitorius’ base is there?” 

“That is what she told me.”

“You think she might be mistaken?”

Obi-wan shook his head. “No, but I ask myself why now? Why would the Force see fit to give her this information? There must be some link.”

Ahsoka saw where he was going with this - Rex came to the same conclusion because he said, “You think Luke might be there.”

“They are twins. There’s been evidence of a connection between them before,” Obi-wan said. “She used to have dreams that I believed were about him, years ago, but they stopped. I…”

“We all thought the same thing,” Ahsoka said gently. The tether Obi-wan had on Luke in the Force had not been strong, and when he’d stopped being able to sense Anakin’s son it might as easily have been because of time and distance rather than anything else, but combined with Leia’s dreams going away… It all pointed to Luke’s death. Ahsoka still wasn’t sure if that was the kinder option, given what they’d managed to find out about the Inquisitorius. 

“If she is dreaming of an Inquisitorius base, then it may be because Luke is in fact alive.”

“And an Inquisitor,” Rex said. 

Again Obi-wan closed his eyes, that same crushing weight in every line of his body. “Then he is lost to us.”

“What should we do about this?” Ahsoka asked. “If we know where their base is, finally after all this time…”

“The whole point was to rescue the kid wasn’t it?” Rex said. “Are you sure…”

“They have had him for five _years_ ,” Obi-wan said. 

Ahsoka reached for the Force, unable to bear the sense of loss tearing her heart apart without its quiet strength. She bled the emotion off into it and blinked tears out of her eyes. Even if she had mourned for a boy she’d never met and thought she never would, that didn’t make this any easier now. Knowing he was alive like that, like some horrid eidolon of what he should have been, might even be worse. 

“We focus on training Leia,” Obi-wan said. “This… it's too late for this to change anything.” 

“Are we really going to ask her to face her brother?” Ahsoka asked.

Obi-wan flinched, just slightly. “We’re asking her to face...” He trailed off, his eyes distant. “Well. Yes. That’s what she may have to do. It might equally be one of us, although I’m not sure that I could.”

Ahsoka wondered again if they should tell Leia that she had a brother. She understood why they hadn’t done so before now - when they didn’t know where he was, if he was alive, when knowing might only cause pain, ignorance had seemed like a blessing. She supposed even now they didn’t actually know for sure. They were just assuming based on Leia’s vision. 

“This is a karked up situation,” Rex said, thumping the table with his fist.

“This isn’t even the main thing I came back to Alderaan to talk to you two about,” Ahsoka said, sighing. 

“I apologise Ahsoka, you’re right,” Obi-wan said. “I didn’t mean for my news to take precedence, but…”

“It’s alright,” she said. “It _was_ more important. My news… I think I’ve found another survivor of the Purge.”

That perked them both right up. “Who?” Obi-wan asked urgently. 

“I don’t know exactly,” she admitted. “My contact gave me what I’m sure is a false name, but he’s the right age to have been a padawan at the end of the war. And… he’s training a padawan of his own.”

Obi-wan’s eyebrows rose even more. “He’s been careful to have survived for this long. I hope that care and the Force keep him safe a good while longer.”

“That’s where the problem lies,” Ahsoka said. “There’s an Inquisitor on their tail. Kanan is part of one of the Rebel cells I liaise with as Fulcrum, and so far they’ve all managed to stay ahead of him, but I worry about how long that can continue.”

“You want to go hunting again,” Obi-wan said. 

“Hunting Inquisitors never got us anywhere when it came to gathering information or finding Luke, but it might just save another Jedi’s life.”

“You need any help, I’m with you,” Rex said. “Pretty sure Leia doesn’t need a bodyguard anymore.”

Obi-wan leaned back in his chair and stroked his beard. “This may sound cold,” he said. “But Leia is going to need to test her skills at some point. Better that it be when she has plenty of other Jedi around to help her. How much time do we have? Can we wait to move until she’s ready?”

That was the calculating mind of the Negotiator speaking. Ahsoka was brought back briefly to the war, oddly bittersweet. It had been such a terrible time that it felt wrong to miss it - but there had also been camaraderie, companionship, the Jedi Order and everything that meant… 

“They haven’t asked for help,” she said. “That doesn’t mean they won’t need it, and we aren’t likely to have much notice.”

“Then we will be ready to move, but not before we have to.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To forestall any comments, yes I know Leia's eyes are brown - but not in the dream.


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vader does not appreciate impertinent questions, Luke experiences the consequences of his actions, and Hera calls for help.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content warnings for unreliable narrator Vader, and general violence.

**4 BBY - Fortress Vader,** **Mustafar, Atravis Sector, Outer Rim Territories**

“Watch your footwork,” Darth Vader commanded. Fifteen Brother paused and then restarted the kata, paying the proper attention this time to the precision of the steps and stances. Makashi was not Vader’s strong suit, but he knew the basics of the form as well as anyone trained in the Temple and he would not let the boy fall short of his standards. He prowled around the Inquisitor, expecting to discover something else which required correction but finding himself disappointed. The boy was progressing well in his training and there was little to fault about his performance.

Vader was uncertain how he felt about that, and the emotion was unfamiliar. 

The Inquisitors were trained amidst pain and adversity all the better to intensify their connection to the Dark Side. Fifteenth Brother had been moulded in this way, and it would have made sense to continue using similarly harsh methods - Vader had not shied away from cruelty when it came to other Inquisitors. Yet he disliked the idea of inflicting pain without due cause either as a punishment or as a tool, and the boy had merited neither. He was quick to learn, obeyed instructions well, and did not make foolish mistakes. He grew more and more enmeshed with the Dark side with every session. This had not changd despite the strange confrontation between Fifteenth and Eighth Brother. Vader was uncertain of the boy’s motivations in making the challenge, but he knew it could not be compassion for the clones as the Inquisitor claimed. 

His life had taught him that compassion was either a lie covering self-interest, or a weakness that cruel reality would not permit to persist - and the youngling was not weak. His command of the Dark proved that. Hurting him to strengthen his emotions when he had more than enough of that strength already within him seemed… unnecessary. 

Vader was not used to feeling an urge towards mercy, yet there was something about the boy that invited it. The Dark was in some way different when Vader was training him. Calmer, perhaps. The hollow emptiness that had become his base state of being lightened, filled with some echo of other emotions that were not rage or frustration or sorrow. It made it easier to think clearly about what he wanted. 

He wanted… 

What he wanted was impossible. There was no way to change or rewrite the past. Even when he had torn apart the barrier in the Dark between the realms of the living and the dead, his Padme had turned her face away from him. Sidious refused to share any of the secrets he had once promised him. The Empire had brought order out of chaos but it had not succeeded in burning out the cancer of corruption or rebellion or slavery or the Hutts. His Master urged him to wait, but Vader now realised he was tired of waiting. Sidious tolerated too much, too many lesser evils in the service of their greater good. 

Vader did not care how much blood he had to shed to cleanse the galaxy, but he would pay that price gladly over making bargains in the dark with corrupt Moffs who were more eager to line their pockets than bring about the promise of the Empire’s glory. 

Fifteenth Brother’s lightsaber whirled in the final neat arcs of the kata and he froze holding the final stance, eyes flicking towards Vader seeking approval. The quiet burn of his hate, a familiar presence in the Force, was absent. It had been gradually waning over time, but Vader had simply assumed he was getting better at hiding it. Now he wondered. 

Vader found himself reminded of his last apprentice, and not for the first time. 

It was not anything specifically about the boy’s character that was like Ahsoka’s, but simply the effect of moments like these where Vader almost felt like a knight teaching a padawan, forgetting entirely all that had happened in the years since then. 

It was nothing more than the ghost of memories. Skywalker was dead. Vader would not,  _ did not _ , respond to them as that dead man would have. It was useless to think of Ahsoka, who was lost to him because of Kenobi’s lies and half-truths. He did not want her back. She had never been  _ Vader’s  _ student - nothing tied them together. 

And yet. In these brief moments when he looked at his Sith Apprentice and saw someone else, he imagined what could have been, and yearned for what might be. 

“Lord Vader?” Fifteenth Brother’s voice broke him out of his thoughts. He looked at the Sith expectantly, awaiting further instructions. 

“That is enough for today.” Vader abruptly did not feel like teaching anymore. 

The Inquisitor nodded, and clipped his lightsaber back on his belt. Instead of leaving immediately, he hesitated. Vader did not need to sense behind his mental shielding to feel questions crowding behind his tongue. 

“What is it?” he demanded. 

“My lord, I wanted to ask about some of the Imperial policies.” He was nervous and trying to hide it. 

Vader rested his hands on his belt, mildly irritated by the question. Politics was not something he wished to discuss at the best of times. “Were your lessons at Area Null somehow lacking?” 

“No,” Fifteenth Brother was quick to say. “Not at all. It’s just that now I’m out in the wider galaxy some things don’t seem to… to live up to the Empire’s ideals.” 

“The Empire is a force for peace and order in the galaxy,” Vader said. “We both serve those ends in our own ways.  _ I  _ do not set out how we might achieve such things - that is a matter for the Emperor. Perhaps you would like to address your questions to him?” 

The boy paled slightly, although it was an empty threat. Vader had no wish to draw his Master’s attention to his unauthorised apprentice. He was already worried that Sidious might know something - it had not escaped his notice that his schedule had been suspiciously open these last few weeks, absent the usual military engagements. Still there was nothing he could do about that. If Sidious knew, he would wait for Vader to overextend, to walk into another of his subtle traps, and judging from past experience he probably wouldn’t see it coming. That did not mean this was not worth doing.

“I wouldn’t want to bother someone as important as the Emperor,” Fifteenth Brother said. 

“Yet you see fit to bother me?”

An almost-concealed wince. “I just think we could be doing more for the galaxy,” he said. “Isn’t the whole point of the Empire to help people?”

This strayed too close to some of Vader’s own recent thoughts on the matter. “Be more specific,” he said. 

Some of the tension left Fifteenth Brother as he perceived an opening. “I know that some people aren’t happy with the Empire…”

“Rebels and traitors, yes.”

“..and I understand that harsh measures are necessary to deal with those sorts of people,” Fifteenth Brother continued. “I just worry that sometimes innocent people might get caught up in that, people who are loyal citizens of the Empire, who haven’t done anything wrong.”

“The innocent have nothing to fear from the Empire,” Vader said, but it felt like a lie. Even so, what did he care if a few nameless fools were caught up in the net of justice? They should not have associated with traitors. Besides, hadn’t the Dark Side shown him that there was no true justice to the workings of the universe, that every person was venal and self-serving? “The rebels would have us return to a state of chaos - if they are allowed to spread their poison unchecked many more would suffer. Some may be hurt by the Empire’s methods, but in so doing they save others from much greater pain.”

Fifteenth Brother nodded. “The Tarkin Doctrine advises rule through fear as the most effective means of control,” he said. “I think about how I might react if I was treated that way though, and it seems to me that we risk turning our own people against us.”

Was there deeper meaning behind the Inquisitor’s words? Was he speaking of his own disloyalty behind the veil of his argument? Suspicious Vader reached out, pressing down on Fifteenth Brother’s shields searching for any hint of rebellion, but there was nothing. All he sensed was an honest concern. 

“People should have more faith,” he said.

Fifteenth Brother nodded, appearing to accept that answer. “That wasn’t the only thing,” he said. “Back during the Republic they said slavery was illegal but they never really enforced that law, right? The Empire was going to change that - and I know they have cracked down on the slave trade in some places. But it’s still rampant in Hutt space, and not just there. I understand that the Empire has a lot of priorities, but…”

Vader snarled - it emerged half strangled by his vocoder, but the Inquisitor quailed beneath the noise anyway. “What would you know of slavery, boy?”

That  _ did _ make the Inquisitor angry, sudden and seething, a match of Vader’s own emotions in this moment. “What do you think Inquisitors  _ are?”  _ he demanded, all caution and diplomacy thrown to the winds. “I was stolen from my family, they were killed in front of me, I had a collar put round my neck…”

Rage snapped, wild and furious in Vader’s heart. He reached out with a growl and wrapped the Force around the boy’s throat. “Do you seek my  _ pity _ ?” he asked, stalking forwards. The child struggled in his grasp, clawing at it physically and with the Dark Side, but Vader would not relent. How dare he compare himself to a slave? How dare he claim to have suffered as Vader had once suffered? “You have been given a  _ gift _ . An  _ opportunity _ . You have been trained and shown the path to power and you dare to complain about that?”

Somehow the boy managed to find enough air to speak.“I grew up in Hutt space,” he said, Sith-gold burning in his eyes. “I saw slavery for myself! I know what it looks like - and just because maybe I have a path out to freedom doesn’t mean I’m not enslaved!” 

“You are  _ mistaken _ ,” Vader told him. He was only half-listening to what the Inquisitor was saying, but the mention of Hutt space filtered through after a few moments. A flicker of curiosity cooled his anger somewhat. He could admit that the Empire’s control over the Hutts was tenuous, that little had changed when it came to the slave trade in that part of the Outer Rim. How often had he railed against the fact that his Master bargained with them instead of sending the Imperial Fleet to burn their strongholds to ashes? That was something he would change, if he succeeded in seeing Sidious dead.

He relaxed his hold slightly. “Where did you grow up?” he asked. “What planet?”

“Does it matter?” Fifteenth Brother said, his eyes still aglow with fury. “I’m pretty sure most planets ruled by a Hutt are the same. I was lucky to have been born free - should have known it wouldn’t stick.”

Vader felt a flash of unexpected sympathy. Perhaps the boy did have some authority to speak on this matter - although his past should not be of any relevance now that he had been reborn in the Dark Side. He was wrong about the Inquisitorius though. The manner by which they retrieved younglings might be more violent and final than that of the Jedi Order, but after that both organisations raised and moulded their charges towards a singular way of life, one constrained by rules and a creed. The Dark did not ask the same things of its adhereants as the Light, but that was a difference of philosophy.

If the Inquisitorius enslaved children then so had the Jedi Order - and propaganda aside Vader had to grudgingly admit that this had not been the case. 

The boy’s memories were clearly an excellent source of anger and hate for him to draw on, so Vader would not punish him for remembering - and perhaps this was an opportunity to lay some groundwork for the future. “You may thank the Emperor’s diplomatic efforts for the continued rule of the Hutts,” he said. “ _ I  _ would see them dead.”

Fifteenth Brother’s eyes narrowed. “Is that the only thing you’d change?” he asked. “Or do you disagree with the Emperor about more?”

Vader finally let him go, and the Inquisitor dropped lightly to the floor, landing on his feet again with a flicker of the Force to keep his balance. “Ambition is the way of the Sith,” Vader said.

“So you’d only make the Empire better to show up the Emperor?” the boy asked. His voice was slightly hoarse, but his courage in questioning him so openly had not suffered. He was braver than most who had felt Vader’s wrath even briefly. “Not because it’s the right thing to do?”

“The ‘right’ thing to do is a foolish and false concept,” Vader told him, pointing a finger at the boy’s chest to emphasise his point. “There is only the Dark Side.” 

“As you say, my lord,” the boy said, bowing his head slightly. 

“You may leave now,” Vader said, gesturing towards the door. The anger had ebbed out of him leaving something hollow behind. The conversation left him unsettled, and he could not say why. 

\----

Luke rubbed his throat, coughing slightly. It was tender to the touch and ached when he swallowed or tried to speak, but given that he’d ended up talking back to a Sith Lord he supposed he should count himself lucky to still be alive. Vader still had enough of a use for him to control his anger, apparently. 

Darth Vader didn’t want the same things as the Emperor. It was interesting to learn that. Maybe Luke should have expected it; Vader was the Sith Apprentice and had to have his own ambitions, his own goals once he was strong enough to kill his Master and ascend to take his place as was the way of the Sith. He just would have expected more of the same.

He  _ certainly  _ would not have thought Vader would have such a strong reaction to the mention of slavery. Luke thought that pointing out that he and the rest of the Inquisitors were slaves would’ve been laughed off, accepted as the natural order of the Dark - that the reason there was still slavery in the Empire was because both the Sith saw nothing wrong with the practise and just claimed otherwise for political purposes. He didn’t understand how Vader could just flat-out deny it. Wasn’t it obvious? 

Vader asked him what he knew of slavery in a way that sounded… personal. Affonted. Luke knew nothing about him, where he had come from, what his life might have been like, but that made him wonder. If Vader had been a slave at some point though how could he possibly justify to himself what the Empire did? 

The same way Banee had to justify her participation in Project Harvester, he thought, in a sudden burst of understanding. 

But Vader  _ couldn’t  _ have been a slave - not if he didn’t recognise the Inquisitorius for what it was. Unless he was in denial about that. Unless he had wrapped himself up in so many layers of rationalisation that he was lost in it. Vader hadn’t been lying either - he was genuinely insulted by the idea that Luke was enslaved by the Empire. Some of his other answers to Luke’s questions though… his answers had rung almost hollow in the Force. The words hadn’t felt like his own. 

Luke wasn’t sure what to think about Vader now. If Vader wanted the Empire to be different than it was, why not push for that now? He was the second most powerful person in the Empire, wasn’t he? Would those changes only be valid for him if he made them as Emperor, rather than still standing in the shadow of his Master? Something about that didn’t entirely fit. He didn’t think that was Vader’s motivation. 

Wasn’t it enough for now to know that Vader wanted those things? Luke might not have been sure before why Vader was training him, but now he was certain he was meant to help Vader kill Darth Sidious. Since that was Luke’s goal as well, there wasn’t any reason not to play along for now. He thought back to the vision the kyber had shown him, fighting and killing Darth Vader and taking his place as the Sith Apprentice. He hadn’t seen much wrong with it at the time, but now he felt that if he was going to be a Sith Lord, he would rather have Vader as his Master than Sidious. 

\----

Ninth Sister could smell burning flesh when they got to Mustafar, and the planet’s natural volcanic activity didn’t help any with that. Second Sister was still ruthless when it came to making examples, and she didn’t think any students at the academy on Carida would dare harbour disloyal thoughts after that one. She didn’t feel particularly strongly about it herself. People should know what to expect if they challenged the Empire, and the suffering of traitors and the fear of their fellows both fed the Dark Side equally well. 

“Your little protege should be here now, according to his schedule,” Second Sister said, as they descended the path from the landing pad. 

Ninth Sister clenched her jaw. She didn’t like Second Sister’s sudden interest in their new Fifteenth Brother. Yes, she was looking forward to seeing the boy again herself, but not if it meant putting him at risk from her own partner. “Yours too,” she said. 

A slight smile twisted Second Sister's lips. “Yes,” she said. “I do hope he’s been behaving himself. Fifteenth Brother doesn’t appear to have been.”

Ninth Sister had heard the gossip, same as everyone else. Not that Fifteenth was training with Vader - that was old news by now - but about the showdown with Eighth Brother over the Purge Troopers. She wasn’t feeling great about that. It sounded like the kid was trying to make friends again, and she knew how that was bound to go. She really thought he had learned that lesson a little better than this. The consequences would catch up with him eventually, and in this case might do so in the shape of Second Sister. 

Speaking of Purge Troopers, there were a pair of them on guard outside the main entrance as usual, protocol more than anything. No-one came to Mustafar that wasn’t meant to be here. Second Sister strode up to one of them and pushed him back against the wall with a casual gesture, looping the Force around his chest and neck and applying pressure. His companion kept his gaze fixed ahead and very carefully didn’t move. 

“Where is Fifteenth Brother?” Second Sister asked. 

“Mess hall,” the clone choked out. 

“Such loyalty your pet has won,” Second Sister said, amused, and let him go. Ninth Sister shrugged. Yup. Consequences, and there wasn’t much she could do about it. It would only do the kid a disservice in the long term to try anyway. She followed Second towards their new goal. 

Third and Fifteenth Brother were sitting together eating when they entered the mess hall, and given the aura of menace and intent Second Sister had wrapped around herself in the Force they couldn’t help but look up. Third Brother went still and pale, but Fifteenth looked genuinely pleased to see them - or at least to see Ninth Sister. He didn’t know Second yet. 

Ninth Sister trailed after Second as she went over to join them. 

“Third Brother,” Second Sister said, leaning down towards him and cupping his chin in one hand. “So nice to see you.” Third Brother was obviously uncomfortable with being touched, but he knew better than to try and shake her off. His droid jumped up onto the table beside him and beeped what was probably meant to be a threat, but it was ignored. “Introduce me to your new friend, why don’t you?”

“I’m sure you’ve already heard of Fifteenth Brother,” Third said quietly, so tense he was almost vibrating. His fear and misery pooled in the Dark Side around them, a heady mix. Ninth Sister breathed it in. After the Jedi had been broken and Fallen, he’d been partnered with Second Sister for a while. It hadn’t been a pleasant time for him. Second Sister took that whole chase he’d led them on after the holocron kinda personally, and she’d enjoyed working those emotions out on him. 

Ninth Sister preferred hurting people who weren’t Inquisitors, but to each their own. She was over the whole thing with her hand - it wasn’t really a big deal to her whether Third Brother suffered or not. 

“You’re right,” Second Sister said. “I have heard of him.” She turned her attention on the kid, who had a little tint of yellow in his eyes. That was… not  _ new _ obviously, but more present than she’d expected. The training with Lord Vader must be going well. There was a wave of protectiveness rising off of him that was less impressive though.  _ Damn _ , Ninth Sister thought.  _ More friends?  _ The kid was going to get himself killed at this rate. Hadn’t Vader beaten that out of him yet?

“You didn’t say who you were,” Fifteenth Brother said. 

“I am Second Sister.”

Fifteenth looked between her and Third. “You two seem… to have history?”

Second Sister’s smile was pure poison. “You might say I brought him into the fold. But I didn’t come here to talk about me. I am rather more interested in you.”

The kid was smart enough to be wary of that, at least. “I’m glad I’m interesting,” he said. 

“You’ve been making a name for yourself,” Second Sister said. “Why, you’ve even taken the clones under your wing. How noble of you. One must wonder why.”

“I can only give you the same answer as I gave Eighth Brother,” Fifteenth said. “I wanted to.”

“I see.” Second Sister let go of Third and stepped back. The droid burbled something insulting after her - Ninth Sister didn’t speak binary but she could tell by the tone. “How far are you willing to go to get what you want, little Brother?”

“Pretty far.”

Ninth Sister wanted to put her face in her hands. This wasn’t good. 

Second Sister smiled. “Come with me then,” she said. 

“Why should I?”

“Consider it a test.”

“And if I refuse?” Fifteen Brother shifted in his seat so that his hand wasn’t far from his lightsaber. He wasn’t incable of reading the room then, just too stubborn for his own damn good.

“Then I must assume you don’t truly stand by your words,” Second Sister said, with mock surprise. “I suppose I will have my fun with the clones after all, in that case.”

Fifteenth Brother pushed his seat back and stood. “Then I accept your test,” he said, baring his teeth at her. 

“Very well,” Second said. “Third Brother, why don’t you join us. I wouldn’t want you to miss this.”

Ninth Sister supposed she was included in this whole cavalcade. She sighed, but followed alone as Second Sister led them to one of the training salles. Second strode to one side of the hall and drew her saber from her belt, lighting it with a flourish. “Well Fifteenth Brother?” she said. “Show me how much you want this.”

The kid ignited his blade but stood there waiting for her to make the first move. His eyes were careful calm blue, and the Dark Side stirred loosely around him. He still lacked aggression. He’d been skilled enough on Arkanis not to need it, but Ninth Sister had really been hoping he would have found that edge by now. Second Sister had her rank for a reason. 

“Where is your spark?” Second Sister demanded. “Where is your determination? Do you mean what you say, or are they mere empty words?”

Ninth Sister felt the moment the kid centered himself and got his head in the game, because the Dark Side  _ flexed _ like ribs bending in and out in a breath the size of the world. Yellow-gold flooded into his eyes. “I mean it,” Fifteenth Brother said, and darted forwards. 

He’d gotten better since the last time she had seen him fight. His steps and flashing blade were Shii-cho and Makashi and Shien, the katas of an Inquisitor old enough to have been a padawan once rather than the bastardised Form V she’d taught him. Vader had only a few months training the boy but clearly he learned fast and learned well. 

Second Sister’s saber whirled in a series of slick parries. Her smile didn’t slip, and she slid from stance to stance easily, meeting each attack as though this was a show-duel. “Not bad,” she said. 

Fifteenth Brother brought his blade down in a powerful overhead stroke and leapt backwards several meters to avoid Second’s rapid riposte. The Force snapped around him in a roiling storm, and Ninth Sister sensed a wave of protective anger welling up inside him. Her empathy wasn’t the same as reading thoughts but this wasn’t the first time she’d sensed something similar from the kid. It had been the same during that final duel on Arkanis, when he’d finally grown up and killed his bothan friend. 

If it meant he had the strength to do what was necessary, then Ninth Sister was happy with it. 

If the kid hoped opening up distance would give him the space to breathe and reassess his strategy he was mistaken. In the Dark Second Sister was cold intent and venom, cruelty and power. With the Force lending her speed she darted forwards fast enough to be a blur to human eyes, her blade thrust like a lance before her. Fifteenth Brother managed to get his saber up quickly enough to block but only just. She had him on the back foot now, her own practised blend of Makashi with just enough Ataru to confuse clearly nothing he was used to fighting. 

Ninth Sister realised she was balling her hands into fists, clenching her jaw. She was worried about the kid. She couldn’t pretend otherwise, not to herself. She might try to justify it by saying she’d put a lot of work into him, but that wasn't really it. He was strong, he made the Inquisitorius stronger for being part of it, his power bolstered the power of the Dark - all those things were more true. At the heart of it though, he was just kind of likable. 

Fifteenth Brother was growing frustrated. His eyes flashed like metal catching the sun and he threw out a hand to push Second Sister back with a powerful storm-surge in the Force. She slid backwards over the smooth floor of the salle, saber guarding her front and head ducked as in a strong wind. The kid didn’t follow it up with his lightsaber though. Instead he kept his hand outstretched, and lightning crackled from his fingertips. 

This was real Sith lightning, more intense and sustained than the single strike she had seen from him before when he’d thrown it Vader’s way during their duel. The colour was different too, an almost pretty blue-green like a glacial lake. Ninth Sister didn’t know if that meant anything. 

Trouble was, it wasn’t a secret anymore that Fifteenth Brother could do this. Second Sister had been expecting it at some point. She caught the lightning on the blade of her lightsaber and let it crackle there in a stink of ozone and plasma. 

“Impressive,” she said, once it had died away, “but you are not a Sith yet boy!” 

Once again she was a blur as she sprung into combat. Ninth Sister winced. Fifteenth Brother had come a long way even since his initiation duel against Vader but the outcome of that fight had been inevitable, and this was as well. Second Sister battered down the kid’s defences, and the Force could only do so much to help him keep up. 

The tip of her saber skimmed along the inside of his forearm, not close enough to do serious damage but enough to make him drop his lightsaber and stagger back with a cry of pain. Second Sister struck him in the face with the guard to keep him stunned and off-balance, pushing him away from where his weapon had fallen, then leveled her blade at his neck. 

The kid froze as he felt the heat. Ninth Sister caught a glimpse of Second Sister’s cruel smile, and her heart sank. 

She really hoped Second didn’t kill the kid. Vader wouldn’t like it, for one thing. 

Second Sister turned her head and met Ninth Sister’s gaze. There was a calculating look in her eyes, and Ninth wondered if she’d let something slip past her shields. This was why caring about other people was a real bad idea. It didn’t lead to anything good. 

“You’re powerful, I’ll give you that,” Second said to the kid, a little out of breath. At least she’d had to  _ work _ for it. “You’ve still got a long way to go though. Don’t presume to think you can order other Inquisitors around again.” 

She lowered her saber and stepped away. Ninth Sister started to relax - then she span and sank the blade into the boy’s flank. 

Fifteenth Brother made an animal sound of pain, flinching backwards instinctively and falling to his knees as that pulled him off the saber. His hands pressed against the wound as he curled up around it. 

“Don’t cry like a youngling,” Second Sister said, smiling. “It won’t kill you. Just a little something to remember me by.”

She turned away and swept out of the training salle, stopping on the way to pat a frozen Third Brother on the shoulder. 

The moment she was gone, Third Brother sprang into motion, his little droid jumping down from its perch on his back and running over to Fifteenth. It ejected something green from its head once it got here and pushed it towards the kid with one foot. Huh. That looked like a bacta stim. She was pretty sure Third didn’t have authorisation for that. 

Third knelt down next to the kid and picked up the stim. “Let me,” he said, and moved one of Fiftenth’s hands enough to see the wound properly. It wasn’t as bad as it had looked at first, mostly piercing muscle although some of the blade’s heat might have caused damage deeper in. Third injected the stim, and some of the tension left Fifteenth’s body. 

“Oh kriff, that hurt,” he managed to say. 

Ninth Sister sighed, and went over to lend a hand. “Let’s get you to medbay,” she said. 

\----

**4 BBY - Lothal, Lothal Sector, Outer Rim Territories**

Hera tucked her crossed her arms and tucked her hands tight into her sides to stop them from shaking while she waited for the call to go through. Guilt gnawed at the back of her mind, not moving for any number of facts or rationalisations. Kanan had  _ chosen  _ to stay behind to let the rest of them escape. The Imps had too much firepower on the ground, and the  _ Phantom _ would have been shot down if they had waited. He wouldn’t want her to feel like this. He wouldn’t want her to blame herself. 

Telling herself these things didn’t help. 

Finally the comms system pinged, and the hazy holoform that represented her contact Fulcrum appeared. Hera stepped forwards enough that the sensors could pick up her face. “I have bad news,” she said. “Kanan’s been captured.”

“Captured?” Fulcrum’s real voice was concealed by the scrambler but her tone still made it through. Hera knew she was making assumptions about Fulrum’s gender because overall the voice sounded female, but she liked to imagine Fulcrum as someone like her, maybe even another twi’lek. “You’re certain he’s still alive?”

Hera couldn’t control her flinch, the instinctive denial. “We’re certain,” she said. “They would have made his execution public, I’m sure of that. Besides, the Imps will still be interrogating him.” Another thing she didn’t want to think about. They knew he was a Jedi. Simply existing as a Jedi was a crime itself, let alone the many, many acts of rebellion he’d been a part of. They were going to make an example of him, she was sure of it. 

“Does he know anything to tell them?” 

She shook her head. “All he knows is that I get information from someone else from time to time,” she said. “He doesn’t know anything about other rebel cells, or any details about you.”

“You told me before that an Imperial Inquisitor has been hunting you,” Fulcrum said. “Was he involved?”

“I didn’t see it happen,” Hera said, feeling guilt stab her yet again. “I was part of the extraction team. I imagine he must have been the one to capture him though, even if he had more than enough help from the local garrison.” 

“Where is Kanan being held?” 

“I don’t know,” Hera had to admit. “My team has laid low since it happened, but as far as Ezra can tell Kanan is still on Lothal. We just don’t know if that’s going to continue.”

“You want to rescue him?”

“Of course I want to rescue him!” Hera didn’t like the way she’d asked that question. As though she was going to tell her it was foolish. Impossible. That she shouldn’t try at all. 

“Your cell was meant to pass unseen and unnoticed,” Fulcrum said. “The transmission Ezra was able to beam out has attracted attention, not just from civilians but from the highest levels of the Empire. They have you in their sights now.”

“I know that they’ll expect us to go after him,” Hera said. “I know we’ll be walking into a trap. That doesn’t mean we shouldn’t try!”

“Normally I would argue against that,” Fulcrum said. “I would tell you that Kanan knew and accepted the risks of this way of life, and that you can do more good by letting him go.”

“Normally?” A little spark of hope woke up in Hera’s heart.

“Kanan is one of the few Jedi still alive. He has a padawan who still needs a lot of training. The Rebellion needs the Jedi…”

“Wait - one of the few? Kanan always thought he was the only survivor of the Purge. Are you telling me there are more?”

Fulcrum nodded. “I’m surprised he missed the bounties the Empire has out on Yoda and Obi-wan Kenobi, among others.”

“He told me just because the Empire couldn’t confirm that they died, didn’t mean they were alive. He never felt anyone else in the Force.”

“He’s been alone for a long time,” Fulcrum said. Was that a hint of sorrow in her voice? “What survivors there are, are scattered and hiding. I hope one day that can change. It’s one of the things we’re fighting for.” 

“So you want to help get him back?” Hera hadn’t even hoped for that much when she’d called Fulcrum. It was just that news like this was something she needed to know. 

“Do your best to find out where they’re holding him, but don’t make any other moves just yet,” Fulcrum said. “We will come to you.”

“We… who exactly are you bringing?” Hera had never even come close to meeting Fulcrum in person, and almost all of her communication with the larger Rebellion had been through her. 

“You’ll see when we arrive. Stay in touch Hera. Fulcrum out.” 

The connection cut off before Hera could ask any more questions. She couldn’t be too frustrated though. They were coming to help! They  _ would _ get Kanan back, she knew it. 


	19. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Luke recuperates while a rescue mission is planned.

**4 BBY - Lothal, Lothal Sector, Outer Rim Territories**

Kanan blinked through a haze of pain and whatever drugs they had pumped into him. They weren’t hurting him right now. That was nice. His muscles were still twitching and he ached all over, but having a break was… good. All he could think about when they were torturing him was keeping his shields up against the sharp-knife presence of the Inquisitor trying to tear them to shreds and see all the secrets held within. 

The joke was on him anyway. Kanan didn’t know anything worth going to all this trouble for. 

He wasn’t alone in his cell. That was less good. The other person was talking, a cool calm Coruscanti accent that made Kanan’s skin prickle. His breathing came faster and faster as he fumbled clumsily for the peace of the Light amidst the confusion in his mind and felt out the edges of the other presence. Darkness washed over him, malice and hate and contempt and so much poison that he was drowning in it. The Inquisitor. He almost let out a sob of panic, but it caught in his throat. He tried to make his eyes focus, but it was hard to think. 

After a moment, he managed to make out what the pau’an was saying. 

“I have been unable to break through his shields yet, but it is only a matter of time. He insists he knows nothing of any value, but I doubt that.”

There wasn’t anyone else in the room, which meant he was talking to someone over a comm channel. Kanan strained to hear who was on the other end of it, and caught a hissing wheeze of noise like static or… something breathing. 

“He is a Jedi.” The voice was unfamiliar, a deep baritone.

“A Jedi padawan,” the Inquisitor said. “Depa Bilaba’s student, I’m almost certain.”

“He must know Kenobi’s location,” the other man said. Kanan wanted to laugh. Master Kenobi was dead. Everyone else was dead. The Imperials were delusional if they thought otherwise. “Bring him to me, Grand Inquisitor. I shall drag it out of him where you have failed.”

The crushing weight of the Dark worsened. Kanan struggled to focus on breathing, in and out, slow and steady. “I will not fail,” the pau’an said sharply. “Anyway, Grand Moff Tarkin is in command of this operation. I cannot simply…”

“Remind Tarkin that when it comes to matters of the Jedi,  _ I  _ am the ultimate authority,” the voice said, dark and foreboding. Just who was that? Who could claim something like that? “You  _ will  _ bring him to Mustafar.”

“As you wish my lord.” The connection cut off. The Inquisitor turned to face Kanan, meeting his eyes with a speculative look. “Ah, you’re awake again. Very good.”

“Don’t... Don’t you need to go talk to Tarkin?” Kanan asked, fear stirring inside him. Sure, that wouldn't mean anything good for him in the long run, but if it saved him from more pain right now… 

The pau’an smiled, showing his sharp teeth. “Oh, we have a little time.” He gestured and pulled the electroprods around with a gentle touch in the Force. “After all if you break, there’s no need for us to go anywhere.”

The pain began again, and Kanan couldn’t think about anything except screaming.

\----

**4 BBY - Inquisitorius Complex, Mustafar, Atravis Sector, Outer Rim Territories**

Luke thought he must have passed out at some point. He remembered the pain lancing through his side, trying to draw on the Dark to withstand it and falling into some dizzying feedback loop of agony. Cal had given him something that took the edge off and let him think, but that only worked so long as he remained still. Ninth Sister’s big hands had pulled him to his feet, but when he wasn’t able to walk she’d picked him up and carried him through the corridors to the medbay. His memories were less reliable after that. Flashes of the med-droid, the stink of bacta, more pain. 

He opened his eyes to a blank ceiling. His connection with the Force was sluggish, like the moons half-hidden behind a haze of cloud. He thought he might be drugged. 

There was someone standing nearby. He could sense their quiet anger and frustration, but their presence wasn’t familiar. Luke started to push himself up and flinched back, gasping as his flank tugged white-hot. 

“You’re awake.” That was the voice of a clone. Luke blinked. 

“Yeah,” he agreed. He tried to move again, but much more slowly this time. He managed to raise himself into a sitting position with some effort. The man looking at him was standing at the foot of his bed, his black helmet resting on top of the covers near Luke’s feet. He was scowling - although part of that was the network of scar tissue covering one side of his face and neck twisting his expression. “Who are you?” Luke asked.

“You don’t get to know my name or my number,” the trooper said. His eyes were hard, his jaw clenched. “You’ve done enough damage already.”

Luke wasn’t sure what he could say in response to that. After an uncomfortable moment of silence he asked, “Why are you here, then?”

The clone growled, a noise of frustration more than anything. “You’re just a kid,” he said, dismissive and unimpressed. “You had no idea, did you?”

“About what?”

“About the consequences of your actions!” Frustration became anger - or that had been present all along and the man was only now losing his control over it. “You idiot, you still don’t know, do you?”

“I…” Luke’s head span. There was only one thing he’d done that affected the Purge Troopers though. “I was trying to help! The way the other Inquisitors treat you isn’t right!”

“Never make promises you can’t keep,  _ boy _ ,” the clone said. “We didn’t ask this of you, and I don’t trust your reasons - not that you ever spoke to any of  _ us  _ about it. Did you do it to help, or because it made you feel good about yourself? Do you expect us to be grateful for drawing an even bigger target on our backs than usual?”

Luke bit down on more protests. “I thought I could protect you,” he said. Only in the moment, when he’d challenged Eighth Brother and by extension every other Inquisitor who hurt the clones for fun, he had only been thinking that it was wrong. That he couldn’t stand by and watch it. He hadn’t been trying to impress anyone, hadn’t been looking for gratitude, but… 

Maybe he had been arrogant. A few lessons with a Sith Lord, and he really thought he could take on  _ every _ other Inquisitor, even the ones twice his age with the experience that came with it? 

The man shook his head - exasperation or despair, Luke couldn’t tell. “You knew you wouldn’t even be around to do that all the time,” he said. “Or you would have known, if you’d thought about it for a second. I wondered if it was malice, or manipulation, but you’re just a foolhardy, impatient shiny, aren’t you?”

“I’m sorry,” Luke said. “I never wanted to make things  _ worse _ for you.” 

“I actually believe that.” The clone snorted and shook his head. “Look, you’re lucky to be alive. Keep your kriffing head down for a while, how about that. Maybe Second Sister and her ilk will get bored if you can manage not to react to what they’re doing. We’ll weather it. We always have. We’re made of stern stuff.”

“Why do you…” Luke burst out, and had to cut himself off before he said something obviously disloyal. He swallowed. His flank hurt, a throbbing ache that made the sick feeling in his stomach all the worse. “Couldn’t you all… apply for a transfer or something? Even if there’s still a while to go before you’re due to retire…?”

The sneer was back. “Clones don’t retire, and we stay where we’re posted. We’re loyal to the Empire, di’kut, no matter what. We were born to do this, and we’ll die doing this. It’s what we were made for. We have no purpose otherwise.”

“You’re still people,” Luke said quietly. 

“Not legally,” the clone said, with a grim smile. He reached for his helmet, and slid it back on. “Think before you act next time.”

\----

Luke felt slightly better the next day, though he got to see the state of his wound when the med-droid changed his dressings. Bacta-infused pads were packing the hole and the droid didn’t bother to give him any extra painkillers when it reached in with sterile tongs to pull them out one by one and shove new ones in. He clenched his jaw and pulled the Dark inside his skin to share his pain, cold sweat prickling all over his body. 

Another, vaster, presence joined him in the Dark, warping everything around it as it approached. Luke swallowed a curse. He knew this might be coming. Vader wasn’t going to miss his student ending up in the medbay, even if he hadn’t said anything about the fight between Luke and Eighth Brother. Luke hadn’t thought that was because Vader didn’t know about it - he’d hoped it was because Vader just didn’t care.

Maybe he’d known it was going to turn out like this. 

The harsh noise of Vader’s breathing filled the room. Luke glanced up but had to look away. How could a blank, unmoving mask look disappointed? 

“You were foolish to challenge Second Sister, young one,” Vader said. 

“ _ I  _ didn’t challenge her,” Luke protested. “She challenged me.”

“You laid down that challenge the moment you made your claim of protection,” Vader said, his finger stabbing the air for emphasis. “If you did not realise this you have only yourself to blame.”

Luke sighed. “I wasn’t thinking about it. I know that now.”

“As I said. Foolish.”

“I had good intentions!”

Vader’s helmet tilted slightly. “Good intentions,” he repeated. His modulated tone didn’t communicate confusion well, but Luke felt it whispered through the Force. “I thought… Explain your motivations to me.”

Now Luke wished he hadn’t said anything. A Sith Lord wouldn’t approve of compassion, the same way Ninth Sister didn’t approve of friendship. What did it matter anyway? It wouldn’t have been a problem if only he’d  _ actually _ been strong enough to defend his desires, to win what he wanted. 

He couldn’t avoid answering. “Some of the other Inquisitors treat the clones really badly. It isn’t right. It isn’t fair. There’s no reason for it except that they like doing it - and that’s not a good enough reason to hurt someone.”

The confusion he was sensing from Vader shaded into disbelief, but thankfully no malice yet. “The universe does not heed concepts of right or fair,” Vader said. “Did you really risk your life for  _ idealism _ ?”

“I’m not an idealist,” Luke replied. “If they  _ had  _ a good reason… I know sometimes you have to hurt people to achieve a goal. That’s not what was happening here.” It was mostly the truth, and true enough to echo like it in the Force. Luke didn’t think of himself as an idealist, but compared to the rest of the Inquisitorius or to the Sith he supposed he was one. 

“If you dislike wasteful malice so strongly, you will frequently be disappointed,” Vader said, and there was an edge of something like mirth to his words. “It is a constant irritation that the Empire contains no end of it.”

“An irritation to yourself as well, my lord?” Luke dared to ask. Vader might be disappointed in him but he wasn’t angry. 

“At times,” Vader said. 

The last time Luke had tried to ask the Sith about the things the Empire was doing wrong it had ended with Vader’s Force-grip around his throat. This was going better, but he wasn’t sure how far he could push it. 

“Will there be any other consequences for losing a duel with Second Sister?” he asked. 

“Only what she has already meted out,” Vader said, gesturing to the wound in Luke’s side. “The med droid will tell you when you are fit to leave, and I expect your attendance at the training salle the moment it does. Your foolishness will not excuse laziness.”

That sounded about right. At least Vader wanted him partially healed, he wasn’t insisting Luke come with him here and now. He probably wouldn’t drill him so hard he injured himself again. 

“As you command,” he said. 

\----

**4 BBY - Lothal, Lothal Sector, Outer Rim Territories**

“Why are we still waiting around?” Ezra said, pacing around the living space of the  _ Ghost _ . “Every moment we waste sitting here the Empire is torturing Kanan! We need to get after him - we  _ have _ a plan.”

“Hera said we’re waiting on help coming,” Sabine replied. “I want to go after Kanan as much as you do, but we’ll have a better chance of succeeding with more bodies.”

“We don’t even know who these people are.” Ezra tried to make himself relax, tried to release his frustration into the Force the way Kanan had taught him, but it was hard. He couldn’t feel Kanan through their mental bond anymore, and he hoped that was distance rather than something worse. He had no idea what was happening to him on Tarkin’s Star Destroyer, or why they were taking him to some place no-one had ever heard of before - Mustafar.

“Some folks from another Alliance cell I reckon,” Zeb said.  _ He  _ looked relaxed. Ezra didn’t know how he did it. 

“There are other cells?”

“Gotta be. We’re not the only people who can see what a mess the Empire has made of everything.”

Ezra perched on the edge of the couch and tapped his hands together in his lap. Yes, Hera promised they would be here soon but waiting was getting impossible. 

A loud knock echoed up the corridor towards them from the side door. Ezra jumped to his feet. “That has to be Hera back!” He left the room at a jog, with Sabine close behind him. 

The door hissed open and Hera stepped through it with four people following her. Three of them were wearing plain cloaks that hid most of their faces. The last one wore what looked like stolen stormtrooper armour, painted the way he and Sabine liked to deface the symbols of the Empire. They would probably get on well - that had to be a good sign, right? 

Hera raised an eyebrow at the pair of them hovering there. “You two are eager. A corridor isn’t the place for introductions though.”

“Hi,” Ezra said, lifting his hand to wave at the newcomers, struck with a sudden awkwardness. There was something about them, something calming but which drew his attention to them. He couldn’t look away. It took Sabine nudging his shoulder to get him moving again up the ramp. As they walked they pushed the hoods of their cloaks back - the armoured one pulled his helmet off and tucked it under one arm. Ezra studied their faces. One was a middle-aged human man with a beard and streaks of grey through his ginger hair, his gentle blue eyes creased with laughter lines at their corners. Another was a girl about Ezra’s age - maybe his daughter? They didn’t look all that similar, but she could be adopted. Her hair was done up in this fancy style with braids like a crown; it kept it out of her eyes but it seemed like it would take too long to be practical. The third human was the one wearing the armour - he had darker skin than the other two, short-cropped blond hair, and a serious face. That just left the togruta woman, tall even without her montraals, giving off that same peaceful aura as the others. 

Once they were all gathered back in the living space, Hera started pointing out each of the members of Spectre to their new allies. She finished off with, “And this is Ezra Bridger.”

“Kanan’s padawan?” the togruta asked. 

“You know about me?”Ezra thought the whole point was that nobody knew who was in the other Rebel cells - or even if they existed at all. 

“I know all of you by name,” she said. “I’m Fulcrum.”

That got a reaction from all of them, even Zeb. “You’re Hera’s contact?” Sabine said. 

Fulcrum nodded. “Under the circumstances, you can call me Ahsoka though.”

“Would you like to introduce your friends?” Hera asked. “You didn’t say much about them.” 

“Even though your comm is secure it didn’t seem wise,” Ahsoka said. She pointed at the old man. “This is Master Obi-wan Kenobi.”

“”I’ve seen you on a holocron!” Ezra said, too surprised to stop himself. He couldn’t quite believe what Ahsoka had said. Master Kenobi? Kanan told stories about him sometimes, though they were tinged with pain like all his tales about the Jedi. He was a hero! The kind of Jedi everyone in the Order looked up to, an example for them to follow. 

Master Kenobi gave him an inquisitive look with a quirk of one eyebrow. Ezra’s cheeks flushed with heat. “Sorry, I just… I thought you were dead.”

“I must admit I’m a little surprised,” Master Kenobi said. “I imagined word of the bounty the Empire has on me would have spread as far out as Lothal.”

Ezra wasn’t about to admit they’d just thought the Empire was chasing ghosts. 

“So you’re a Jedi hotshot,” Zeb said, irreverent as ever when it came to the Force. “What about the kid and this guy?” He waved at the blond man. 

“Rex,” the blond said. “Pleasure to meet you all.” 

Hera was frowning slightly. “Wait… you’re a clone. I should have realised from the armour…” Her hand drifted over the blaster pistol in its holster at her side, and Chopper popped out several tools and beeped in a menacing fashion.

Ezra tensed too. “You betrayed the Jedi,” he said. He only didn’t grab his lightsaber off his belt because  _ Master Kenobi _ was here and not doing anything about this apparent traitor in their midst. “Kanan told me. All the clones did, turned on the Order and slaughtered them. Even Padawans, even  _ children _ .”

Colour drained from the clone’s face, turning it ashen. “I know what my brothers did…” he said, little more than a whisper. 

Ahsoka put a hand out in front of him, a protective barrier. Her voice was firm when she said, “Rex didn’t take part in the Purge. The Clones were controlled by the Sith - that’s a longer story than we maybe want to get into now. I don’t blame you for your anger, or your Master’s, but it’s misplaced. I promise you.”

Ezra tried to relax. He looked from Master Kenobi, to Ahsoka, Rex, the girl. They all looked sad, more than sad. Weighed down with grief the way Kanan got when he talked about this stuff. Something occurred to him that… maybe should have been obvious from the start. 

“The rest of you… you’re  _ all  _ Jedi!” 

Ahsoka smiled. “Not quite,” she said. “I left the Jedi Order during the Clone Wars, but it’s not like the Empire makes a distinction.”

“You’re Master Kenobi’s Padawan?” Ezra asked the girl, unable to help feeling just a  _ little _ bit jealous. Not that he would ever give Kanan up for anything! It just had to be amazing, being taught by a genuine war-hero. 

She nodded. “I’m Leia, by the way,” she said. “It’s nice to meet you all. This is actually my first mission.”

“Dropping you in the deep end?” Hera said, raising an eyebrow. “Do you have a second name, Leia?”

Ezra didn’t miss the glance Ahsoka and Master Kenobi gave each other, he just didn’t know what it could mean. “Leia Organa,” Leia said firmly, after a few weirdly drawn-out moments. 

“Isn’t there a Senator named Organa?” Sabine asked. 

“Since when did you pay attention to politics?” Zeb said. Sabine ignored him. 

“My father,” Leia answered them. 

“Wait…” Ezra said. “Kanan told me he met Senator Organa a few months back - those droids were his!”

Leia frowned. “He didn’t say…” She cut herself off, sighed, and looked over at Ahsoka. “Let me guess. Operational security?”

“Of course,” Ahsoka said, smiling back. 

“Your whole family is taking a big risk,” Hera said. “Even if they missed your father’s involvement with the Rebellion, if the Empire found out he was hiding Jedi…”

“Oh, they know that,” Leia said. “My mother and father are both people of principle. The consequences are worth it, they say.”

“They must have beskar spines,” Sabine said. “It’s nice to know  _ some  _ Senators are trying to do something for real.”

Leia bristled. “Fighting for sentient rights in the Senate is just as necessary as everything else the Rebellion does,” she said, her voice cold. 

Sabine laughed. “The Senate’s a joke,” she said. “They’ve been powerless for years - when’s the last time they got anything done?”

Whatever reply Leia might have to that was cut off when Master Kenobi laid a hand gently on her shoulder. “A conversation for another time, perhaps?” he said. “We do have a rescue to be getting on with, don’t we?”

“Yes.” Hera nodded decisively. “We managed to intercept a courier and got Chopper here on board an Imperial corvette.” Chopper warbled and motioned with his manipulator arms as though he was flexing imaginary biceps. “He hacked their systems and found out that Kanan was transferred to Tarkin’s Star Destroyer.”

“Is it still in the system?” Master Kenobi asked, frowning. “We didn’t see any Destroyers on our way in.”

“No - they left shortly after. We found out where they’re taking him though. It’s a planet called Mustafar.”

Now Master Kenobi was the one to go pale. “Oh, that’s not good.”

\----

**4 BBY - Inquisitorius Complex, Mustafar, Atravis Sector, Outer Rim Territories**

The droid let him go a mere four days later. Luke had to admit he did feel a lot better, and when he stretched his wound was painful but not agonising. As long as he didn’t let it catch him off guard he could cope with it, fight despite it. It was mid-morning, but Vader’s instructions had been clear. 

The Sith wasn’t in the salle when he arrived, but Luke was used to the room’s setup by now. He ran through a few of the katas that were pure muscle memory at this point, then activated one of the combat droids that lurked in the corners. It twirled its Force Pike as it powered up and strode towards him. He didn’t dial up the difficulty too far. There was a warm burn in his muscles and in his side, a few tinges of pain that warned him not to do too much. 

His lightsaber had scored a few slashes into the thick armour of the droid by the time Darth Vader appeared. Here in his citadel his presence was constant and all-encompassing no matter where he was in the building, and Luke was used to feeling him like a dark star at the edge of his awareness. He only realised that Vader had entered the room when the droid he was fighting powered down again and he had to pull his strike to avoid decapitating it. 

“Lord Vader,” he said, giving the Sith a respectful nod.

“Our training today has been cut short,” Vader said. “The Grand Inquisitor has returned.”

Luke turned off his lightsaber and clipped it onto his belt. The Grand Inquisitor had been gone for months - the rumour mill said he was hunting down some Jedi who was obviously pretty good at running. “Has he completed his mission, my lord?” 

“In a manner of speaking,” Vader said. Luke felt like he knew the Sith well enough by now to tell when he was being sarcastic, which was surprisingly often. There was an edge of dark humour in his words now. “He has captured the Jedi but failed to secure the Padawan.”

“Captured? Not killed?”

“The Jedi may have useful information. If he does, I will extract it where the Grand Inquisitor has failed. If he survives the process, his proven skill may earn him a place as an Inquisitor.” 

Something in Luke’s heart relaxed at that. Being an Inquisitor was still slavery but it was better than death. 

“You will accompany me to collect the prisoner,” Vader said. 

“Collect him? From where?” Why didn’t the Grand Inquisitor just bring the man to the Inquisitorius Compex here on Mustafar? 

“From orbit. Apparently Grand Moff Tarkin is being  _ difficult _ .”

\----

**4 BBY - In orbit above Mustafar, Atravis Sector, Outer Rim Territories**

Stealing the Imperial transport was almost laughably easy with three Jedi and a Clone Wars veteran along with them. Master Kenobi, Ahsoka and Rex had barely done any of the work anyway, content to sit back and watch Leia prove herself. In motion she was acrobatic and elegant, moving just a little faster than any standard human could. She distracted the stormtroopers easily, weaving between their blaster bolts like the whole thing was some choreographed routine while Sabine slipped from TIE to TIE setting charges. Ezra was a bit distracted from his own part of the mission, but it didn’t really matter. Zeb just shoved him towards the transport and then they were in the air, swooping low to pick up Leia and Sabine before soaring away from the clouds of smoke and dust that exploded from the airfield behind them. 

Now they were here, slipping out of hyperspace above the planet that housed the Inquisitor’s main base. Learning  _ that _ about Mustafar made every bit of Master Kenobi’s reaction make sense, and of course they would take Kanan there, to their stronghold. Not to mention that apparently there was more than just the one of them and Master Kenobi didn’t even know how many. 

They were probably walking into a trap. A really nasty trap. It was for Kanan though, so Ezra wasn’t going to flinch away from this. 

Mustafar was a ball of red and black and every shade in between, with a dagger formation of four Star Destroyers hovering in orbit above it menacing and deadly. Tarkin’s was at the rear, protected by the bulk of the other three. 

“Do you feel your training bond?” Master Kenobi asked, leaning against the back of Ezra’s chair. “Is Kanan still on the ship, or have they transferred him to the surface?”

Ezra closed his eyes and reached out. It was there at the back of his mind, faint and fragile. A thread of silk in the darkness of space. He groped along it, holding his breath, feeling like it might snap if he put too much weight on it. At the other end… “I feel him!” he said. “He’s on the Star Destroyer.”

“Thank the Force,” Leia said, just audible from the seat next to him. This rescue would have been nearly impossible if he was on Mustafar surrounded by Inquisitors. 

Hera started broadcasting their transponder code - the transport was freshly stolen enough that they should still be good. The Imps accepted them well enough - or pretended to. Fear stirred in Ezra’s stomach and he tried to put it aside. He couldn’t. 

Sabine’s special TIE released from its moorings beneath the transport and jetted off towards the Destroyer on a modified autopilot. It felt like everyone in the ship was holding their breath to see if this was actually going to work, if they’d correctly calculated the number of pulse charges needed to knock out an entire Star Destroyer’s power. Hera arced the transport around the side of the Destroyer as though they were just making the turn to face back down the hyperspace route. Sabine was counting under her breath. When she hit zero she hit the detonator - it only took a few seconds after that for the exterior lights to flicker and finally die. Electric discharge coruscated along the Destroyer’s hull.

“Karabast,” Zeb said. “It actually worked.”

Hera banked the turn tighter into a full loop and brought them in against the flank of the larger ship at 90 degrees to the vertical, settling them down hull to hull with barely a thud. The transport vibrated slightly as she activated the magnetisation array - they wouldn’t be going anywhere they didn’t want to now. 

“After you,” Master Kenobi said, gesturing to Ahsoka. 

The togruta slid down the ladder to the lower hold, the rest of them following on closely behind. Ezra hadn’t missed the fact she had  _ two _ lightsaber hilts clipped to her belt, and he watched with interest as she drew them now and activated two pure white blades. 

“I didn’t know they came in that colour,” Sabine said. 

“I didn’t either,” he replied. The only ones he’d seen were his and Kanan’s blue, and the Inquisitor’s red. Did white mean something special? Maybe it was because she wasn’t a Jedi?

Ahsoka stabbed the two sabers into the hull plating, one above and one below, then stepped back and used the Force to rotate each saber a perfect half circle before calling them back to her hands. Ezra couldn’t help it, he let out an impressed whistle. 

“Show off,” Rex said, though he sounded proud rather than annoyed. He had his helmet back on, so Ezra couldn’t see his face. 

With a quick Force push the cut cylinder slid forwards and thumped down into the corridor beyond. They waited until the rim had cooled enough to touch and then clambered through. Several stormtroopers were lying scattered around the passageway in both directions. 

“They’ll wake up before long,” Master Kenobi said, passing a hand over one of them. Ezra felt a flicker of his attention in the Force, pressing against the trooper’s mind. Then it was gone, back behind thick shields. Ezra wasn’t that trained yet, he knew he couldn’t sense people around him that well. It was probably why it had taken him so long to realise that Master Kenobi, Leia and Ahsoka were Force-sensitive. He hoped Kanan would get a chance to teach him. 

“Leia?” Master Kenobi said. She nodded, her expression determined. 

“If I do this, they’re going to know we’re here,” she said. 

“I suspect they know that already,” Master Kenobi said with a smile, gesturing to the collapsed, unconscious bodies all around them. 

“Good point,” Leia said, and closed her eyes. 

What followed was like something vast unfolding, a star flaring in the throes of supernova, a wave of light that passed over him without heat but blinding to look at with his mind rather than his eyes. Ezra took a step backwards, utterly disorientated, and found himself leaning against the corridor wall. The massive presence in the Force that was  _ Leia _ pressed down gently upon the minds of the stormtroopers and eased them from unconsciousness into true sleep - and not just here in this corridor but elsewhere on this ship as well. Ezra felt it happening, although he couldn’t say how many people she was doing this too. 

“That’ll have gotten their attention,” Ahsoka said, warm and proud. 

“So… did something just happen?” Zeb asked, Force-sensitive as a rock. 

“What the kriff?” Ezra shouted, as Leia tucked her Force presence back behind layers of shields that must be like something plating a Star Destroyer to contain all of...  _ that _ . 

“Language young man,” Hera told him. 

“But…”

“We should get moving,” Master Kenobi said. “Which way are the cells?”


	20. The Truth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The rescue mission meets unexpected resistance with the first of several confrontations.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a fairly busy time for me, and I am away on holiday next week, so the next chapter will be in a fortnight once again. After that, hopefully I can get back to doing them weekly but we shall see.

**4 BBY - ISD-** **_Sovereign,_ ** **above Mustafar, Atravis System, Outer Rim Territories**

Darkness was everywhere. Kanan’s head swam with it. For a long time the galaxy had been a cold place without the presence of the Jedi Order, so different from the way he remembered it as a Temple-raised youngling, but an absence of light was a far cry from the active malice that now wrapped its shadows around him. Even when the Inquisitor wasn’t there in person the feeling remained the same. He was drowning in it. Barely able to keep his head above the water. 

Kanan knew he had been moved. He wasn’t on Lothal anymore, but things were so mixed up in his head. He thought they’d taken him to a ship but he couldn’t be sure of more than that. The torture had continued on and off, pausing when the pau’an had other things to deal with, or when a droid came to give him food and water, or those dreamlike hours when he caught snatches of half-sleep despite the constant glare of the lights above him and the ache that pulsed slow and steady throughout his body. 

He wanted to call on the Force, to give him strength and ease the pain, but it seemed so far away. Where was the Light in the Darkness? What if he reached for it and found himself grasping the wrong thing? That might be their plan. 

The door of his cell hissed open. Kanan blinked bleary eyes as boots rapped against the metal steps - more than one set. 

The pau’an led the way into the room, but he wasn’t alone. It wasn’t Tarkin this time, or Kallus. The tall form armoured and cloaked in black was like a hole cut out of reality. The vast malice and cruel intent that surrounded Kanan suddenly had a source, a focus point. He couldn’t help it - he struggled in his bonds trying to get away even knowing by now it was futile. This creature, this  _ thing _ was emitting a darkness thick enough to push the breath from his lungs and submerge him entirely in the choking black of the Dark Side, rasping its harsh breathing in and out loud enough to fill his ears and drown out anything else entirely… 

“This is your Jedi?” the creature asked. His voice was a deep baritone. Kanan heard the words as if from far away. 

“Master Bilaba’s Padawan,” the Inquisitor said with a sneer. “He calls himself Kanan Jarrus. Despite his association with a rebel cell he still claims to know nothing.”

“You have not yet succeeded in breaking him,” the monster said. He sounded like a man, like a person, but Kanan had never felt anything like this before. 

“If you gave me more time…” the pau’an said, with an edge of irritation that burned in the Force. 

“There has been more than enough time.” The Dark constricted its tendrils around Kanan and then something was pressing against the boundaries of his mind, sharp-edged and barbed dragging over his shielding. He let out a quiet, inchoate sound of pain. His eyes tightly closed, Kanan reached for the remaining scraps of his determination and did his best to hold out. 

After an indefinable moment of pushing and searching and horrible pressure, the psychic bonds released him and moved away. 

“His shielding is well developed for a former padawan,” the monster said. “Fifteenth Brother. A test for you.”

Panting in relief at this brief moment of respite, Kanan still heard the pau’an say, “Do you really expect this  _ boy _ …”

“I did not ask your opinion, Grand Inquisitor.” Anger lashed the Dark, stirring it up like the sea in a storm. Kanan huddled down in the safe refuge of his own mind and tried not to give in to panic. That would only give the Dark Side a way in. 

“I’ll do my best my lord.” A new voice. Kanan opened his eyes just enough to peer through his lashes. There was a third person here. In the shadow of the tall monster - surely that thing was something more than just another Inquisitor - he’d gone entirely unnoticed. He  _ was  _ still a boy; he couldn’t be older than Ezra. He wore a uniform similar to the pau’an’s and his eyes were that same yellow glow - though not so red-rimmed as the other Inquisitor’s. 

“Do or do not,” the monster said, some dark mockery of Grandmaster Yoda’s famous creche saying. “There is no try.”

This “Fifteenth Brother” - whatever that meant - stepped forwards wearing an expression of deep concentration. Once again Kanan felt the touch of the Dark Side against his mind. The impression of sharp needle-pricks, tiny claws, tap-tapping all around his shields made him shiver. This wasn’t the same brute strength and power as before, but it was no less unsettling. 

“I’m certain I could get in without doing his mind any harm if I had enough time,” the boy said. Behind him the pau’an sneered, a mixture of disgust and vindication. 

“You need not be concerned with damaging him,” the monster said. 

Kanan caught a flicker of something in the boy’s eyes, but he didn’t have time to analyse it before those claws were back digging into his shields, ripping and tearing and  _ too strong _ … 

Suddenly the whole room vibrated around them, the lights flickering as a wave of electromagnetic energy passed over them. The Inquisitor was distracted enough that he lost his hold on Kanan’s mind, and he wasn’t the only one affected by whatever that had been. Sparks crackled over the armour of the monster and the rasp of his breath stuttered and lost its rhythmic pattern. 

“Lord Vader!” the boy said, giving the monster a name. Kanan had a flicker of memory - some Imp military propaganda Sabine had criticised, but that didn’t feel like the whole picture. This wasn’t any ordinary Imperial commander. 

Kanan followed the thought to its conclusion - one he would have come to a lot sooner if he wasn’t half delirious from the pain and the drugs and the sleep deprivation. A Sith. 

Master Kenobi killed a Sith on Naboo when he was a padawan, the first seen for thousands of years. There had been rumours about Count Dooku during the war, about a Sith Master pulling strings from the shadows, someone whose identity had never been discovered. Was that this man, this creature? 

“It appears… your rebel cell… has come to rescue their Jedi,” the probable Sith said, straightening up. His words were cut short, interspersed with his now-unsteady breathing. 

“More fool them,” the pau’an said. He gave the Sith a speculative look - the boy at the Sith’s side bristled. 

“ _ I  _ shall… deal with them,” Vader said, pointing an emphatic finger at the Inquisitor. “Guard… your prisoner. Fifteenth Brother… with me.”

\----

Luke followed Vader into the corridor expecting them to head straight for the source of the EMP, but instead the Sith ducked into the next cell along and went over to the interrogation rack. Quick and sure, he opened up one of the side panels and started stripping out pieces of circuitry. Luke hovered by the doorway, uncertain if he was expected to help. He didn’t like the sound of Vader’s breathing, off-kilter and hitching. The normal slow rasp of it wasn’t just an affectation. Although Luke didn’t know anything about his medical history, it was obvious that his suit was necessary, and that the pulse had damaged it more than Luke first thought. 

He’d hit Lord Vader with lightning before, during their first duel. That hadn’t done much damage - hadn’t it? Now he wondered. Vader had defeated him easily despite that, but lightning was different to a specialised electromagnetic pulse designed to knock out machinery. 

Vader popped open the control box on his chest and picked out some smoking circuit boards. He began to replace them with the ones he had retrieved - Luke wondered why they hadn’t been damaged. Perhaps because they hadn’t been powered on? Or… the rack holding the Jedi hadn’t deactivated. They must be insulated, for some reason. 

“Is there anything I can do to help?” Luke asked. A Sith would not appreciate sympathy, would not forgive any suggestion they might be weak, but he hadn’t liked the way the Grand Inquisitor looked at Vader just there. Like someone eyeing up the competition, like prey. 

“I am functional,” Vader said, slotting the control box back into place. His breathing eased off. When he moved it was still slightly stiff, and the Dark Side was wrapped tightly around and through his body, but Luke didn’t doubt he was still formidable. It was just a strange way to describe himself. Functional. Like a droid. 

As they headed back out into the corridor the Force shuddered and a bright white light flared suddenly into existence. It burned for a few moments before subsiding, hiding like the sun behind heavy clouds. “Jedi,” Vader said, with satisfaction. “A strong one.”

“I felt it too,” Luke said. Something about it was familiar. He thought he should know it. 

“They are too powerful and well trained to be Jarrus’ Padawan. And I sense…” Vader’s head tilted and Luke felt him reaching outwards into the Force, spreading his awareness wide. “Kenobi,” he hissed. “Try as you might to hide, I can still find you.”

“Obi-wan Kenobi is here?” Luke remembered his conversation with Ninth Sister on the way to Mustafar that first time. He still wasn’t sure why he felt he ought to recognise that name from somewhere other than Inquisitorius rumours. He’d never met a Jedi. Stil, he knew how important this one was. 

“Yes - and he is not alone.” Vader sounded almost eager, though his vocoder made it difficult to tell. “Is it not curious that he would risk himself to save our prisoner? The captured Jedi must know more than we imagined.”

Vader started to move, long steps that ate up the ground, although nothing so undignified as breaking into a run. Luke had to jog to keep up and winced slightly as it pulled at his still-healing flank. They were heading straight towards the ghost of that Light presence, matching its movement to meet them before they reached their destination. Luke couldn’t feel Kenobi or anyone else, but Vader said he could hide himself in the Force. So could Luke, but only the intensity and direction of his presence, not its existence all together. 

Perhaps he should try to learn. It might come in useful. 

They drew ever closer until Luke started to hear the noise of blaster-fire. They’d passed several unconscious stormtroopers on their way and it took only a casual brush over their minds to see that they were in an almost unnaturally deep sleep. Someone had done that to them, and he could only imagine that’s what the swell in the Light Side had been all about. Either they hadn’t gotten all of them, or reinforcements had arrived from the other Destroyers quicker than expected. 

“Tarkin’s plan is proceeding,” Vader said, summoning his saber hilt to his hand with a quick flick of the Force. “However he has not anticipated the presence of more than the Spectre cell. He should have left this to  _ me _ .”

Luke grabbed his own lightsaber, feeling the quiet animal scream of the kyber. He fed it a brief sense of his determination and concern and it replied with willing obedience. They turned a corner and found a battlefield. A squad of stormtroopers hunkered down at a nearby intersection were turning the air red with blaster bolts. At the other end and backing away in an orderly retreat was a rag-tag group of humans and aliens, four of whom were wielding lightsabers and batting the bolts away with fluid ease. 

Luke looked the group over quickly, taking in details. A big purple-furred alien with digitigrade legs, a species he didn’t know. A green-skinned twi’lek dressed in pilot’s overalls, firing a blaster pistol. A slim human girl with bright dyed hair and Mandalorian-style armour, around his age. Someone who would have  _ looked _ like a stormtrooper if not for the blue paint decorating his older-patterned armour. Then the Jedi - a middle aged man who had to be Master Kenobi, his blue blade twirling in easy arcs, looking utterly relaxed and confident and not at all like someone in the middle of a fight, and a togruta woman with orange skin and blue-and-white patterned monraals and lekku, wielding two lightsabers with white blades. That was interesting. Luke hadn’t known they came in that colour. 

Their number was rounded out by two teens around the same age as the other girl or Luke himself. They were hanging back and leaving the majority of the defensive work to their Masters. Both had blue sabers, and the girl… 

For a brief moment her eyes met Luke’s and he felt again that sense of her in the Force. It all clicked into place. Outside of the dream her eyes were brown rather than that unearthly blue, but they were just as determined. “Leia,” he said, no more than a breath. Then… Kenobi was the one teaching her. 

It didn’t matter. They’d sworn this to each other already, that no battle would break their friendship.

“Kenobi!” Vader bellowed it out across the battlefield. The Jedi turned, not missing a step in his defense, and Luke saw his eyes go wide and horrified. “Do not dare to run this time!”

“Go,” Kenobi said to the others, still flicking away a series of blaster bolts that started to tail off as the troopers realised who had arrived to reinforce them. “Ahsoka and I will hold them off. Complete the mission.”

“Master…” Leia said. In the midst of combat she was a shining beacon of light, glorious and blinding. 

“There’s no time to argue,” the Jedi said. He turned to face Vader, who strode forwards with his saber ignited, the kyber screaming into the Force in an echo of the roaring fury that rose in its master like a krayt through desert sands. There was only murderous intent in Vader’s mind, a single point of will that warped the universe around it, that said there was only one way that things might be. Kenobi bore up under the weight of the Dark that surged over him in waves, a calm solid glow searing away shadow, bolstered by the togruta joining his side. 

Luke hung back a little. He wasn’t sure what his role was in this - he would support Vader of course but this felt personal to the Sith. Kenobi had run from him for a long time. He might want the satisfaction of the kill all to himself. 

This was Leia's Master. His death would hurt her and Luke… Luke didn’t want to be responsible for that even just in part.

“Fifteenth Brother,” Vader said, hand snapping out in a gesture that encompassed the retreating Rebels, answering Luke’s question. “After them.” 

Luke did as he was told. Darth Vader didn’t need his help. 

\----

“There are more of them?” Ezra said as they ran, frustration filling his chest. “I thought we would only have to deal with the one!”

“Above the planet where they have their base?” Leia said, scowling. “Of course there would be more.”

“Not just Inquisitors,” Rex added, voice little more than a growl. “Vader too.”

“Who  _ was _ that guy?” Hera asked. 

It was actually Sabine who answered. “You guys don’t know about Vader? I’m sure I’ve talked about him before.”

Zeb shook his head. Ezra only knew he was really,  _ really _ bad news. The Dark Side around him had been… like nothing he’d ever experienced. Like being pelted with the fury of a storm only instead of nature’s impassiveness  _ this _ storm wanted to kill you particularly. 

“He’s one of the Empire’s top military commanders,” Sabine explained. “The way I was taught at the Academy, he answers only to the Emperor. He won battles against the Mon Calamari fleet when they tried to defend their homeworld, wiped out rebels and pirates, stamped out the remnants of the Separatists…” She snorted. “To hear the propaganda tell it he’s an army all by himself.”

“That’s not entirely propaganda,” Leia said. She threw a glance back over her shoulder, even though they’d moved far from the noise of lightsaber combat now. Ezra felt a stab of guilt. He hadn’t wanted to leave Master Kenobi and Ahsoka behind either, but Master Kenobi must know what he was doing. He wasn’t the man’s student though. “Darth Vader is a Sith Lord.”

“A Sith…?” Ezra said. Leia said it like he ought to know what that was. 

“Your Master didn’t teach you about the Sith?” Leia said, clearly surprised. 

“Should he have?” Ezra asked, feeling a little defensive. Kanan did his best! 

“The Sith are the ancient enemies of the Jedi,” Leia explained. “The Emperor is a Sith Lord as well - the Master. Vader is his apprentice.” 

Ezra couldn’t imagine the old man who appeared on the holonet sometimes, or in propaganda materials, as able to train someone as obviously terrifying as Vader. The Emperor was just… someone wrapped up in the pleasure of absolute power, moulding the galaxy to his whim, yet still an ordinary person. The idea that he might be something even worse was unsettling. 

They turned a corner and almost ran into another patrol of stormtroopers looking for them. Zeb, Sabine and Rex were firing almost before Ezra could react, and they took out most of the troopers before Leia darted in and finished off the last of them with sure, targeted strikes. She was a better duelist than he was, and Ezra wasn’t ashamed to admit it. He certainly couldn’t have pulled that trick earlier with the Force either. When she turned back though, there was conflict in her eyes. As the faint smell of charred plasteel and beneath it something more meaty wafted into the air, Ezra was uncomfortably reminded that there were real people behind those helmets. People doing the wrong thing, oppressing others, but people all the same. He’d been fighting them - and yes sometimes killing them - with Spectre for long enough that he’d almost been able to forget that fact. 

“Which way to the cells?” Leia asked. 

“That way,” Ezra said - at least going by his mental map of the ship, which he’d spent hours studying before the mission. He’d made sure he was prepared for this. They were only going to get one chance at it. They set off down the corridor but that last group of stormtroopers hadn’t been alone. Footsteps echoed towards them, dozens of boots hitting metal. 

“Karabast,” Zeb muttered. “They’re gonna block our way.” 

“We can fight past them,” Sabine said, with confidence. 

“Not fast enough to avoid them calling even more backup,” Rex told her. He looked Ezra and Leia over, the tilt of his helmet communicating his assessing gaze. “Y’know, my experience of Jedi padawans is that they like nothing better than sneaking around ventilation systems.” 

“Splitting up doesn’t seem like the best idea,” Hera said, “but it’s as good a plan as any right now. Ezra, are you comfortable with this?”

“I can do it,” Ezra said, looking up towards one of many ventilation grates that studded the ceiling at regular intervals above their heads. “It doesn’t even look like it’ll be a tight fit.”

“Will you be alright without us?” Leia asked. 

Rex tapped a salute with one of his blasters against his helmet. “Don’t worry about it Commander. Go get Kanan back.” 

It was the work of moments to get up into the ducts. Ezra led the way, reaching out for Kanan’s presence in the Force. The thin thread of their bond was stronger now, more  _ there _ . He was somewhere close by. He followed that sense and his own memory of the blueprints until they reached another grating - one that was welded into place this time. Peering through it, he could just make out a long corridor lined with doors. It looked like other detention blocks he’d seen before. 

“Are we there?” Leia whispered.

Ezra concentrated. Kanan was here, he was sure of it. He ignited his lightsaber being careful in the tight quarters, and cut quickly around the edges of the grate. He pushed it out into the corridor catching it on the way down so it didn’t make a noise when it landed. “I’m sure,” he said. “Let’s go.”

They both crept out and were able to stand up straight again. Ezra scanned the blank doors looking for something to tell him where Kanan was exactly - which was when the Inquisitor stepped out from his hiding place. It was the young one Vader had called Fifteenth Brother. Ezra thought they’d lost him, but apparently he was smart enough to just… go to their destination. 

Bright yellow eyes passed right over him and fixed on Leia instead. “Hi,” he said quietly. “I was really hoping we weren’t going to meet like this.”

“Luke?” Leia said, as though just realising something. “It  _ is  _ you!”

Ezra suddenly had a bad feeling about this.

\----

The Sith-eyed boy darted away after the rest of the Spectre cell. Obi-wan watched him go with his heart wrenching itself in two inside his chest. That was Luke. He knew it. He’d grown so much since the last time Obi-wan saw him, blond hair faded to sandy brown after so long away from Tatooine’s suns, his frame lanky as any teenager’s although in height he took more after his mother than his father. Leia was the same. 

The Dark Side wrapped as tightly around Luke as it did around Vader. Even if Obi-wan hadn’t been able to feel it, those burning yellow eyes would have been all the proof needed that Padme’s son was lost to them. Only true Sith looked like that - most Inquisitors did not. Ventress hadn’t. Even with Count Dooku - Darth Tyrannus - it had only been a murky tint corrupting what were once warm brown eyes. 

He remembered that yellow, rimmed in red, staring out at him from the face of the man he once called brother, fighting to the death amongst choking volcanic fumes. Anakin had already been dead then. Only Vader remained. 

“Together,” Ahsoka said beside him, as the Sith Lord roared out a challenge towards them. 

“Together,” Obi-wan agreed. It was necessary if either one of them was to survive this. 

Vader advanced towards them with a fury that was fearsome to behold. This wasn’t the first time Obi-wan had felt it - it had echoed throughout the Force on Ord Mantell’s moon as they escaped from the Sith’s clutches - yet the sheer strength of that malevolence took him off guard all the same. He readied himself to meet the speed and agility of Ataru, but Vader’s stance was wrong for that. His height, his bulk, the sense of him in the Force… it was all utterly alien. Obi-wan saw nothing of Anakin left within him, not even in the lightsaber form he used. The series of powerful attacks that slammed towards him were Djem-so tainted with a Sith’s aggression. 

Obi-wan backed up, giving ground as Soresu allowed. His blade wove a careful defence, parrying with effort. Hadn’t he expected it, the intense desire to see him dead that burned in the Force? Hadn’t he trained himself both mentally and physically all these years on Alderaan for the duel he knew would one day come? If so, why did he feel so off-balance now? 

“You were foolish to come here Kenobi,” Vader said. Obi-wan had heard him speak before, snippets of propaganda on the HoloNet, but never in person. Even his voice was changed, the manner in which he spoke. 

Vader’s fierce intent was fixed entirely on him and Ahsoka took advantage of that, darting in to strike at his apparently unguarded back. Vader whirled, red blade clashing against white, then pushed her back with a tidal wave in the Dark Side that sent her skidding away along the corridor. 

“This does not concern you,” Vader told her. “We shall speak once  _ he  _ is dead - it is foolish to throw your life away defending a traitor.”

Ahsoka flipped back onto her feet and darted towards them again, though not before a brief moment of hesitation. Obi-wan saw the confusion in her eyes. It mirrored his own. What possible reason could the Sith have for wanting to  _ talk _ to her? The Empire and the Inquisitors had tried hard enough to kill her before, why should that have changed? 

Darkness swirled around the Sith bringing with it sharp impressions of fire and embers and smoke, choking breathlessness and burning pain. Obi-wan fought to keep his mind in the present. This was not Mustafar, not quite.  _ That _ locus of the Dark lay far below them, though who knew if a Sith could draw on its power even at this distance? He let those memories and the emotions that came with them flow through him into the Force and tried to allow peace to come in their wake. The Light was soothing and strengthening - he let it catch him up in its currents and guide his body and blade to where they needed to be. 

Obi-wan played for time now. Time for Ezra and Leia to get to Kanan, to rescue him and get him back to the transport. He could fight Vader, but he couldn’t kill him. He  _ knew  _ this man wasn’t Anakin but even so… 

“If you continue to defy me I  _ will _ kill you,” Vader said, the dark blank eyes of his helmet turning towards Ahsoka once again. “My mercy is not unlimited.”

“Mercy?” Ahsoka said, trying to press the attack. Vader switched back to defence, the push and pull of Djem So well suited to it. The form was more flexible in that respect than Obi-wan’s own Soresu, and in the moment something in him still hesitated to attack in turn. “The Sith know nothing of mercy.”

“Do not mistake expedience for compassion Ahsoka,” Vader said. “You are no Jedi. Your talents could be put to better use.”

“How do you know my name?” Ahsoka asked, her tone sharp and a little afraid. Dread shivered in Obi-wan’s stomach. He hadn’t expected Vader to  _ talk _ . To taunt. Anakin had always been so blunt, headstrong and determined when it came to combat. Those qualities, twisted by the Dark Side, should have been simple, murderous rage. Not manipulation. Not bargaining. 

He had been arrogant. He  _ knew _ Vader, the Sith in Anakin’s shape, was not his Padawan. Why should any part of him be the same? 

“Obi-wan did not tell you.” A twist of dark pleasure radiated into the Force and Obi-wan cursed himself. He had his reasons for staying silent, but now they all seemed self-serving. He had not seen… not anticipated… 

It didn’t matter. 

“Snips, how could I forget my own Padawan,” Vader said, triumphant and cruel. 

“What?” Ahsoka stumbled backwards, her face pale and seeming barely in control of her own body. Her lightsabers hung loosely at her sides. It would have been easy for Vader to strike then, but he did not. It should have been just as easy for Obi-wan to take advantage of Vader’s distraction, but he was caught up in the same paralysing horror. “That… that’s not true. You aren’t… You can’t be!”

“Search your feelings. See through Kenobi’s lies. I was once your Master, as  _ he _ was mine.”

“Anakin…”

“Vader,” the Sith corrected. “The Dark Side revealed many truths to me. I would show you them too.” He actually reached out a hand towards her. 

“Ahsoka!” Obi-wan shouted, finally finding his tongue. “Anakin is  _ dead. _ Everything we loved about him is gone. Vader is all that remains.”

“You left me once,” Vader said, a sudden stab of anger lashing the Dark Side into a howling storm once again. “Do not do so again.”

Ahsoka blinked tears from her eyes. Beneath the oppressive mantle of Vader’s eternal rage, her horror made the bright glow of the Light gutter, but it did not go out. “I might not be a Jedi, but I will never be a Sith.”

“Then you refuse?” The fury rose, slow but massive. The outstretched hand tightened into a first. “You would rather follow this traitor? Has he told you everything he did? Everything he took from me?”

Ahsoka took a deep breath. Around her the Light settled, a mantle of calm. She lifted her twin sabers again. “I know Master Obi-wan,” she said. “He’s a good man. So… so were you once, Skyguy. But if you claim to know what’s best for me you would know it isn’t the Dark Side.”

“Then you will remain weak,” Vader said, “and the universe will destroy you.”

“That’s an interesting way to phrase it,” Ahsoka replied. “I thought  _ you _ were the one threatening to do that.”

Vader snarled - or at least that was how Obi-wan interpreted the noise his vocoder made. The Sith’s temper finally got the better of him - he lunged towards her and brought his saber down in a punishing strike. Ahsoka met it in the cross of her blades, bowing slightly under the weight of it. It was as if the attack broke whatever spell had kept them all fixed in place - Obi-wan shook the sluggish horror out of his system and went to help. 

He should have told Ahsoka. He could see that now. This had been a mistake, one Vader had used against them both. If he hadn’t been focused on winning her over as some kind of pawn, he could have killed her. Obi-wan wasn’t going to make the same error again. If he survived this, then Leia deserved to know the truth about her father as well. 


	21. Chapter 21

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A series of confrontations continue as the rescue reaches its climax.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would like to say thank you for all the wonderful, kind comments everyone is leaving on this fic - I really appreciate them all even if I'm not always very good at replying to comments.

**4 BBY - ISD-** **_Sovereign,_ ** **above Mustafar, Atravis System, Outer Rim Territories**

“Luke?” Leia asked, although she was almost certain what the answer was going to be. Earlier when she’d seen an Inquisitor her age at Darth Vader’s side she had wondered, and her suspicions had only grown when their eyes met. Luke’s golden irises were the same now as in their shared dream, contrasting with his black uniform just as they contrasted with the dark shadows of his dream-form. 

Luke smiled. “I knew it was you,” he said. “Although you look different in real life.”

Next to her, Ezra gaped at them both. “What the kriff?” he said. “How do  _ you  _ know an  _ Inquisitor _ ?”

“We met in a dream,” Luke said cheerfully. He was remarkably relaxed given the situation, at least on the surface. He was facing two Jedi padawans and a Sith Lord had ordered him to stop them. Leia didn’t even want to think about the kind of punishment he might face for defying that order - she’d already gotten some idea about what had been done to Luke already during his training. He didn’t like to talk about the worst parts of it, but he had a skewed idea of exactly how bad some things were. 

“In a dream,” Ezra repeated. “You… you know why we’re here, right?”

“To rescue your Master,” Luke said. 

“And… you’re here to stop us?”

“Well…” Luke shot her a wary glance. That calm exterior flickered for just a second, long enough for her to see the uncertainty lying beneath it. “In theory. Stop you and take you prisoner, or kill you. Obviously I’d prefer the first option but neither of them is great.”

“Enough stolen children,” Leia said softly. Luke grimaced. 

“Exactly,” he said. “You could just run? I’m not the only one lurking down here. The Grand Inquisitor will be waiting for you on the way out - that’s the only place he could be, since he isn’t  _ here _ .”

“I’m  _ not _ leaving without Kanan” Ezra took a step forwards, bringing his lightsaber up into a guard position. 

Luke summoned his own lightsaber to hand with a quick Force pull. “I’ve wondered what it would be like to fight a Jedi,” he said. “I’ve wondered what it would be like when  _ we _ fought as well.” He nodded to Leia. She thought she understood where he was going with this. 

“Then let’s spar,” she said, igniting her blade and jumping forwards in one smooth movement. Obi-wan’s speciality might be Soresu but like Ahsoka her own build and personality were better suited to Ataru. “Ezra, get Kanan.”

“Oh kriff,” Ezra said, jumping out of their way and making a break for one of the cell doors. Leia trusted he could sense which was the right one. She put him out of her mind and concentrated on her duel and on the Force. 

\----

There was someone familiar nearby, and coming closer. Kanan shook off some of his lethargy and managed to force his eyes open. The cell was empty. Of course it was. If there was anyone in it, he would be in pain. 

The door hissed open. Kanan blinked, but no, Ezra was still standing there. His padawan hurried down the steps towards him and started to examine the restraints holding him in place. Kanan could feel his hands touching him, feel his presence in the Force. He was real, not something his feverish brain had conjured up. 

“You shouldn’t have come here Ezra,” he said, each word scouring his parched throat. “I’m glad you did though.”

“You would have done the same for me,” Ezra said. “In fact you have. Now come on, we don’t have much time.” The bar around Kanan’s chest clicked open and he stumbled forwards, only just managing to catch himself on trembling legs. Ezra ducked under one of his arms and let him lean on him for support. 

Kanan made it out into the cell block corridor before realising the noise he could hear was lightsabers clashing. A young woman and an Inquisitor were fighting, dancing up and down the length of the floor with acrobatic grace. They were both good fighters.  _ Really _ good. Kanan had no idea who the young Jedi was but he knew that Inquisitor. It was the one that had been in his cell earlier, digging claws into his mind. 

Ezra tugged at his arm when he realised he wasn’t moving. “Leia can look after herself,” he hissed. “Come  _ on _ .”

Kanan kept moving. Ezra seemed to know what was happening, so he would trust that his padawan knew what he was doing. They left the detention block and started to stumble through corridors that looked all the same to Kanan. At one point they ducked out of the way of some running stormtroopers, and he was pretty sure those weren’t the only sets of footsteps echoing nearby. “You didn’t come alone to get me did you?” Kanan asked. “Just you and that other Jedi? Leia, you said?”

“We all came, we just got separated,” Ezra explained. “Fulcrum, Hera’s contact, turned out to be a Jed… a Force-user named Ahsoka, and get this… Master Kenobi is  _ still alive _ !”

“That’s not possible.”

Ezra nodded frantically. “It is. He’s  _ here _ . We left him and Ahsoka fighting Darth Vader, then we split up so Leia and I could get to you…”

“And then you ran into that other Inquisitor.”

“He said he wasn’t the only one down here. That the ‘Grand Inquisitor’ was as well.”

“You spoke to him?” Kanan shook his head - that wasn’t really important right now. “He must have meant the pau’an.”

“Yeah, he said he’d be waiting for us somewhere, but I don’t sense him anywhere.” Ezra huffed in frustration. “It’s hard though - everything reeks of the Dark Side here.”

Another door hissed open in front of them, and Ezra jerked to a halt. Kanan looked up. They had stumbled into what appeared to be the reactor room - a catwalk stretched out in front of them towards a series of control panels in the centre of the space. Standing in their path was a familiar silhouette. 

“Speak of the Sith,” Kanan said. He pushed off of Ezra’s shoulders and managed to straighten up. The Light still felt very far away, but when he reached for it some of its strength trickled into him. He felt a little more like himself. 

The pau'an smiled, full of smug confidence. He drew his saber and ignited it, the red blade crackling in the air. Kanan felt a flicker of hate, but breathed it out into the Force. As much as this man had done to him, he couldn’t allow that emotion any foothold. It would only hand the Inquisitor another kind of victory. 

“Do you mind if I borrow this?” he asked Ezra, reaching for the lightsaber hanging from his padawan’s belt. 

“Go ahead,” Ezra replied, looking nervously behind them. Kanan hadn’t forgotten about Leia or the one called Fifteenth either, but you fought the battle that was in front of you. 

He advanced, as ready as he could be.

\----

Luke somersaulted backwards to avoid another of Leia’s blows and landed awkwardly, stretching the still-healing wound in his side painfully. He thought he’d managed to hide any grimace of pain, but Leia stopped immediately, dropping out of her combat stance and coming forwards with an expression of concern.

“I’m fine,” Luke said, twirling his saber in a moulinet to prove it, although to be honest it wasn’t  _ that _ move that hurt. “We’re meant to be fighting.”

“Ezra and Kanan aren’t here anymore,” she said. “We don’t have to keep going. It’s just sparring anyway - you’re not really trying to hurt me. You’re injured - what happened?”

The idea of telling her the truth briefly flashed across his mind, but he absolutely wasn’t doing that. If she heard about Second Sister Leia would only worry even more, maybe try and persuade him to leave the Inquisitorius, and he couldn’t do that. He’d come too far for that now, invested too much pain and suffering to turn back before he reached his goal.

“You’re a really good duelist,” he said instead, changing the subject. “How long have you been training with Master Kenobi?”

Now it was Leia’s turn to wince. “Of course you’ve heard of him,” she said. 

“The bounties would be hard to miss,” Luke agreed.

“Kanan and Ezra managed it,” Leia said, with a certain wry humour. “Apparently they thought the Empire was chasing ghosts.”

“Sometimes it feels like that,” Luke said. “I’ve heard rumours here and there about living Jedi but before now I’d never seen one. I can understand why they might feel like they were all on their own.”

Leia bit her lip. Then she said, “Obi-wan told me about Inquisitors, about what you do - or at least as much as we know about that. Do you spend all your time chasing rumours looking for Jedi to murder and children to steal?” 

Luke supposed he deserved that. Leia’s words might be harsh, but they didn’t have anger behind them. She was almost pleading with him, asking him to prove that he was better than the others, innocent of their crimes. He was for some of them. He wasn’t Second Sister. That didn’t mean he could reassure her like she wanted though. “Mostly I’ve been working with Third Brother to explore Jedi Temples and retrieve their artefacts. That doesn’t mean I couldn’t be transferred to Project Harvester, and… you heard Lord Vader. He expects me to stop you.”

“Project Harvester?”

Luke couldn’t help the bitterness that leaked out in his reply. “That’s the child-stealing bit.”

“Would you obey, if that was what they were ordering you to do?” Leia asked softly.

Luke had wondered that himself. He thanked the Force often that he hadn’t needed to make that choice, though Banee had. If he could forgive her for doing so, then shouldn’t he be willing to do the same for himself? The idea of that particular submission though made his skin feel tight and his stomach roil with nausea. 

“Something happened recently that proved to me that I need to pick my battles,” he said, choosing his words carefully. “I can’t stop Project Harvester just by saying no to it personally - it’ll go on without me. But like I said before, I can wait, get enough power, work at the system from the inside…”

Leia nodded. It clearly wasn’t the answer she’d been hoping for, but it was one that she understood at least. 

“Darth Vader is going to expect you to try and kill me,” she said. “What are you going to tell him?” He sensed her fear and disgust at the Sith leaking out into the Force as faint streamers of emotion, before she did something that made them flash into prickling Light and disappear. 

“That I fought you, and the other two escaped while that was happening,” Luke said, shrugging. “That you overpowered me because of my injury and I got away. The Grand Inquisitor will be the one to blame if you all escape after that.” 

“The Grand Inquisitor… are you so sure he won’t find Ezra and Kanan?” 

Luke grimaced. “Maybe you should catch up with them,” he said. “All of you together…”

“Ezra said they’d fought the pau’an before, and it was a close thing every time,” Leia said. “Kanan’s injured, and Ezra and I are only padawans. We won’t be able to take him on if he finds us again.”

“I can only help so much!” Luke replied, the Dark Side flaring around him as it fed on his frustration. “Anyway, it’s Vader that you should really be worried about. He’s been waiting for this chance to kill Kenobi. If he’s smart your Master will run again, but that just means Vader will follow him back to your ship. You need to get moving Leia, or all of this is going to be pointless.”

“You could still come with me. With us.” The core of stubbornness and determination in her heart was enough to have made any Sith proud, even though it was veiled and surrounded by waves of painful, blinding Light. “I know you want to change the system but you could do it from the outside as well. You don’t have to struggle and hurt people and be a pawn of the Empire in the hope it’ll all be worthwhile some day…”

“I  _ do. _ ” Luke told her. “I’m no Jedi, and your rebels have no use for the Dark Side. Besides, when I kill the Emperor…”

“ _ That’s _ your plan?”

Luke frowned. “Didn’t I say that before?”

“You said you planned to get power but I thought you meant within the Inquisitorius, within the military of the Empire, not cutting the head off the snake and what… taking its place? Ruling as a Sith? You realise you’ll have to go through Vader first, right?”

Luke almost corrected her there, but… that might not be the best idea. Bad enough that Luke was an Inquisitor; if Leia or the other Jedi learned he was training with Vader as a potential Sith Apprentice it would be all too easy to start believing he was a monster again. To think all of this was lies and manipulation. “If I have even the slightest chance of success, isn’t that more than I would ever get as a Jedi?” he said instead. 

“I… I supposed it is.” Leia glanced over her shoulder, and Luke’s mind jumped as well to the thought of how much time was passing here. 

“Do you know how to get back?” he asked. 

“Ezra was the one who spent more time on memorising blueprints.”

Luke reached out into the vast cloud of shadow that was the Dark Side, searching for the Grand Inquisitor’s presence. He’d only met the man for a brief period, but that should still be enough to find him unless he was making a particularly strong effort to hide. Quickly he honed in on the place where the Force warped itself around confidence, arrogance and more than a little sadism, although… that wasn’t the only presence there. 

“The engine room,” Luke said. “He’s found them.”

\----

Leia ran with the Force lending strength and swiftness to her muscles, following each twist and turn Luke made to lead her forwards. For all he’d claimed he couldn’t help, when it came right down to it his choice had been instant and instinctive. She was less certain what would happen when they actually reached the Grand Inquisitor. There was a limit to what he could do to help without compromising his position or his safety. They were friends, it felt easy and natural to trust him, even the Force didn’t seem to object to doing so, but… was she just believing what she wanted to believe? How far could friendship really stretch?

Everything around her seemed choked and drenched in the Dark Side. Leia couldn’t sense what Luke was sensing. She felt Ezra and Kanan getting closer, felt Ahsoka and Obi-wan distant but - thank the Force - still alive, but that was all. Anger and poison and hate clouded the air, invaded her lungs every time she took a breath, and she was certain she had Vader to thank for that. 

The decking shuddered under her feet and Leia almost stumbled and fell. Luke was caught off guard too, and there was that wince again as he jarred his side. She wished she knew what that was about. Her imagination had already come up with a dozen possibilities, none of them good. If it had only been an accident, then he would have told her about it wouldn’t he?

“What was that?” she asked.

“I’m not sure,” Luke said. He stayed where he was though, crouched against the floor. His eyes flicked back and forth tracking something she couldn’t see. “I… I think the Grand Inquisitor might be dead.”

“Good!” Leia said, before wondering if that was insensitive. Was there any kind of closeness within the ranks of the Inquisitorius? Did they care about each other at all? 

“That doesn’t explain this though,” Luke said, waving at the vibrations that were still trembling through every surface. 

“Let’s keep going,” Leia said. 

The vibrations didn’t stop. The whole ship lurched around them as they ran, and then it started to tip slightly sideways which didn’t make any sense unless the gravity generators had been damaged in some way. 

“What did your Jedi friends  _ do? _ ” Luke asked. 

“How in the hells should I know?”

As though speaking of them had summoned them, they ran into Kanan and Ezra coming around a corner. A trickle of blood tracked down Ezra’s cheek from two deep slashes below his eye. 

“Oh kriff!” Ezra yelped when he saw Luke. Kanan grabbed him by the shoulder and shoved him back, taking up a protective stance in front of him with his saber drawn. His gaze flicked from Luke to Leia. 

“What’s going on?” Leia demanded.

“I could ask you the same question,” Kanan said. His expression was hard and wary, and his eyes didn’t leave Luke. “Maybe my head’s a bit messed up, but weren’t the two of you fighting back in the cell block?”

“He’s... it’s complicated.” The corridor lighting abruptly switched from cool white to a deep red, and klaxons came on at the same moment. Leia looked around, adrenaline spiking. Whatever was going on was serious. “I don’t think I have time to explain.”

“The engine room kinda blew up,” Ezra admitted. 

“Do you know how to get back to your ship?” Luke asked. 

“From here, yeah,” Ezra replied. 

“Don’t talk to the Inquisitor,” Kanan told him. 

“Leia knows him, apparently,” Ezra said. “Something about meeting in a dream.”

“Leia.” Sudden panic threaded through Luke’s voice. “Leia, you did something to the stormtroopers to keep them asleep. Can you wake them up again?”

“Why would we want that, exactly?” Kanan asked. “That’s not a very subtle way of trying to get us captured.”

Luke turned on him with his eyes blazing gold. “If the damage to this ship is as bad as I think it is, then it’s going down. If they can’t get to the escape pods then all those people are going to die.”

“They’re stormtroopers,” Kanan said. 

“Who’s meant to be the bad guy here?” Luke snarled. He turned back to Leia. “You need to do something. Killing them doesn’t get you anything. Do you want meaningless blood on your hands?”

Leia almost took a step back, he was that agitated and vehement. She was too shocked to work out exactly how she felt about what he was saying. She’d come to terms with the fact she would have to kill the Empire’s soldiers long ago, even though the idea of it and actually doing it had proved to be very different. She opened her mouth to throw Luke’s hypocrisy back in his face before the odd way he’d worded it sank in. Meaningless death. Death that wasn’t  _ for _ anything. 

She thought she understood. It didn’t mean she had a solution. 

“I don’t know how,” she said. “They’re meant to wake up on their own after a few hours.”

“Show me what you did,” Luke demanded. “I’ll fix it if you can’t.”

“Arrogant much?” Kanan said. He was still wary and afraid, all of it leaking out into the Force, but he hadn’t attacked. Leia realised it was only his strength of will that was keeping him on his feet. He released pain and exhaustion into the Light with every breath. 

Luke ignored him. His golden eyes were fixed on Leia’s. She did her best to reach for the Light that felt so far away, let her shields down and looked for the little firefly glows of open Force-null minds. She was aware of being watched, the cloak of the Dark over everything sharpening, focusing towards her, brushing against the edges of everything she was. It… didn’t feel as bad as it had before. There was something about it, something as solid as the heart of a star, weighty as a black hole. If she wanted to, she thought she might be able to understand it, to truly comprehend it - but that was not a safe path to walk down. 

“I think I did something like this before once,” Luke said. With her awareness spread over the ship he sounded quiet and far away. “Hopefully I’ve learned more control since then.”

“That… sounds bad,” someone - Ezra - said. “Maybe you shouldn’t…”

The Force jolted. A stab of pure adrenaline hit all those sleeping minds like a bolt of lightning, the stomach-skipping sensation of falling that would startle anyone awake. Leia’s own heart sped even feeling it second-hand. Ezra yelped, and Kanan swayed on his feet. 

Stormtroopers started stirring everywhere Leia could sense them. “We need to go,” she said. “Right now.”

Luke stood back. “I won’t stop you,” he said. “So… don’t get caught on your way out.”

Leia nodded. She didn’t want to test her luck by saying goodbye. It would feel too final. They would both get out of this just fine, and meet again in dreams as they had before. This wasn’t a real farewell. She simply turned, and ran. 

\----

Ahsoka wasn’t sure how she was still fighting. It had to be entirely muscle-memory - there certainly wasn’t any thought involved. She was numb inside, now beyond the jolt of raw emotion that had come when she realised the Sith was telling the truth. It was impossible to deny it with the Force ringing with his honesty, but it was just as impossible to understand how it could be real. The blank white noise inside her skull kept buzzing as some part of her tried to reconcile two utterly contradictory things. 

Anakin was alive. Anakin had fallen. Anakin was a Sith Lord. 

How? It made no sense. 

Obi-wan hadn’t been surprised, even though  _ he  _ had been the one to confirm what she’d thought she already knew - that Anakin died with the Republic. That had felt like the truth as well. Which part was the lie? More than that, did he know how this had happened? Had there been signs, something Obi-wan had seen but… but that she hadn’t been there for? Why hadn’t he told her? Why had he let a Sith Lord take her off guard like that? 

She couldn’t let those kinds of recriminations affect her. Not now, not in a fight for their very lives. Vader might have offered Ahsoka his hand but he didn’t hesitate when she refused it. His lethal intent was impossible to mistake for anything else. 

She wasn’t fighting at her best, but Obi-wan was with her and he had lost none of his skill over the years. It was something she’d already known - they sparred together whenever she was on Alderaan - but when all they ever saw was each other it was easy to forget just how exceptional he was. 

When it came to Sith though, even exceptional wasn’t always enough. 

When the ship began to shudder all around them, Ahsoka saw the moment Vader was distracted from them in a bright bolt of epiphany. It was the Force guiding her more than any calculated move springing from her own mind - she leapt sideways and hit the controls for the blast-doors they happened to be standing between. Heavy panels of metal snapped shut, cutting Vader off from them. Ahsoka sank one saber through the durasteel and held it just long enough to weld it shut - it wouldn’t hold him for long at all, but it was just enough time for them to get a headstart. 

She had no idea how long they had been fighting for. Hopefully long enough for the others to achieve their objective. 

Ahsoka didn’t say anything to Obi-wan as they ran, but she could feel the weight of his haze heavy on her back. She couldn’t tell what he was feeling, what he was thinking, but this wasn’t the time to talk about this. Once they were away, safe in hyperspace… He was  _ going _ to give her answers. 

She wasn’t the only one who deserved them. A bright flush of shame almost had her lose her step. Leia. Rex. She hadn’t even thought about them before this moment, but they needed to know this - Leia perhaps most of all. She didn’t even know who her biological parents were, although she had never pressed them to tell her. Bail and Breha loved her, and if that was enough for Leia then Ahsoka would never have forced painful knowledge on her. Now… this changed everything. 

The pathway back to the ship had already been cleared with blasters, and Ahsoka’s heart lightened ever so slightly when she rounded the corner to see Rex guarding their escape route. 

“Leia and Ezra?” Obi-wan asked, as they approached. 

“They commed,” Rex replied. “They’re on their way with Kanan.”

Another small relief amongst the horror of what she had learned. Ahsoka tried to relax and let some of the tension out of her body. Escape was close enough to taste.

\----

Luke pulled his awareness back inside the constraints of his own mind, though keeping some part of it on Leia and the other Jedi as they made their escape. The klaxons still blared their urgency, and he needed to leave as well. Vader was somewhere nearby, incandescent with anger. It didn’t seem like a good time to present him with Luke’s own failure to capture or kill any of the intruders. It was going to be hard enough to conceal the truth from him as it was. 

Luke headed for the shuttle bay, confident that even with the ship on red alert nobody would be foolish enough to take a craft belonging to Darth Vader. Overall, things hadn’t gone too badly. Everybody on the Jedi’s team had gotten out alive as far as he could tell. The Grand Inquisitor was dead, but apparently he had lost a duel with the very prisoner Spectre had come to save, so clearly that was his own fault. There had been casualties and deaths amongst the stormtroopers defending this ship and Luke wasn’t pleased about that but… it could have been worse. 

Waking the troopers up hadn’t edged close to losing himself in the Force at all. Perhaps it was the clear goal in his mind, the fact he was demanding something specific from the Dark. He was still focused on his desires rather than giving himself up to whatever the Force chose to do with him. That made sense. Lord Vader always told him control was vital in mastering the Dark Side. 

Thinking of Vader again, Luke knew he would have to do something convincing to show he’d been defeated and to stop the Sith looking closer at the situation. Luke put one hand against his flank where his healing wound ached. His spar with Leia had strained it, but not enough. He pulled the Dark into himself and focused on the area. A picture of it began to take shape in his mind, a sense of muscle and fat and connective tissue all knitting together under the busy guidance of the bacta suffusing the wound from the dressing laid over it. A few tears cut through it, but overall it was still healing well. 

Luke didn’t really know what he was doing. He hadn’t done this before, but if he could manipulate objects around him with the Force, shouldn’t he be able to do the same to his own body? It was all just physics when it came down to it, right? He took hold of something and tugged. 

Immediately he winced, pain flaring. He let it intensify, drawing the Dark with it. It came eagerly, with an edge of hunger that was familiar. When Luke reached again for his injury the Dark surged forwards, almost clawing into the wound so quickly it took him off guard and he almost lost his grip on it. The little flickers of life from the bacta fizzled out and the connective tissue they’d been building crumbled like tinder in a hot flame. Luke grabbed hold of the Force before it could get away from him and wrestled it back under control, his heart hammering in his chest. That… that was new, and he didn’t like it. It was that same urge to devour him he’d felt before, just in a different way. 

Yet there was also an odd kind of strength flowing through him - he felt revitalised from the fight and all this running around, fresh and full of energy, ready to go all over again. The pain from his wound was barely noticeable even though he could feel hot blood starting to spread in a slow trickle down his side, soaking into his uniform tunic. 

This was going to need some further examination at some point, but for now it was better not to look a gift bantha in the mouth. He would need this strength for the other part of what he had planned. 

Luke had thought about damaging his lightsaber to show he’d been disarmed, but he couldn’t make it look real without another lightsaber and he hadn’t had a chance to ask Leia. Besides he didn’t want to risk damaging the kyber crystal - he’d put a lot of effort into proving himself to it, and it was  _ his _ now. Bloodied and howling, it still burned like something alive. 

With that off the table, the disarming would have to be more literal. 

Luke looked down at his hand and clenched it into a fist. It might be metal and circuitry but it was still hooked directly into his nerves and it felt things as acutely as his flesh and blood hand. It would be easier to replace than the first time around, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t going to hurt just the same. Still. Better that, than Vader finding out he had let the Jedi go. He clenched his jaw, lit his lightsaber in his off hand, and swept it down. 


	22. Chapter 22

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The truth is revealed.

**4 BBY - Transport ship** **_,_ ** **leaving Mustafar, Atravis System, Outer Rim Territories**

Slipping past the Imperial blockade was made much easier in the chaos caused by the injured Star Destroyer as it was dragged down into Mustafar’s gravity-well, but nobody on board the stolen transport could breathe easily until the stars blurred into the bright lines of hyperspace. Then some of the tension drained out of the room. Not all of it. That wasn't possible when they had come so close to failure. Still, they were alive and Leia was deeply thankful for that. Obi-wan and Ahsoka both looked drained, tired both physically and emotionally, but after fighting a Sith Lord that was the best anyone could hope for. Rex and the non-Jedi part of the Spectre cell were mostly uninjured aside from a few slight score-marks where blaster fire had skimmed over pieces of armour. Kanan was with them, rescued and still in one piece. Even her first meeting with Luke in the flesh hadn’t gone as badly as it could have. 

So why did it feel like there had been some massive change below the surface? Why were Ahsoka and Obi-wan closed off through the Force? 

Kanan was eyeing her suspiciously. Leia understood why. She would react the same way seeing what he had - a stranger acting friendly with an Inquisitor. She hoped he wasn’t going to bring it up in front of everyone, but it was clear now that she couldn’t hide this from her teachers any longer. She would have to tell them about Luke.

“Is anyone injured?” Hera asked, swiveling the pilot’s chair around to look at them all. 

There was a general murmuring of negatives, a shaking of heads. The relief was plain on her face. “Kanan?” she added. 

“Better than I was up until now,” he replied, forcing a smile. There was a ragged edge to Leia’s sense of him in the Force that showed how worn out he was, how close he’d come to something terrible and final, but even now he was leaning on the Light for support and that roughness was starting to smooth away. His eyes flickered to Leia again. “There’s something we need to talk about though.”

“Several things,” Ahsoka said, exchanging a look with Obi-wan that was… surprisingly angry. Had something happened during their fight with Vader? 

Kanan had picked up on it too; he blinked and sat back slightly, off-guard. “Perhaps it’s… not what it seemed,” he said. 

“I’m pretty sure it wasn’t,” Ezra added. He was sitting next to Kanan, pressed into his side as he supported him to stay upright. Whatever kind of fight they’d had with the Grand Inquisitor had taken what little out of him had been left after the torture she was sure the Empire had put him through. “Like I said, Leia’s trustworthy.”

Leia winced and tried to hide it. Obi-wan sat up straighter in his seat and frowned. “Naturally she is,” he said, “but why would that be in doubt?”

It would only look worse if she didn’t speak for herself at this point. “I’ve been keeping something secret from you all,” she said, addressing Obi-wan, Ahsoka and Rex. 

“Oh  _ really _ ,” Ahsoka said, with a certain amount of irony. Oddly it didn’t seem to be directed at Leia. 

“I’ve been seeing someone in my dreams. A boy about my age. Not,” she was quick to add, “in any kind of romantic way.” That really wasn’t the kind of friendship she had with Luke. For one thing she hadn’t even known what he looked like until now, and then there was the whole Inquisitor thing… 

She hadn’t even gotten to that part yet so she wasn’t expecting any kind of reaction from her teachers except confusion, but instead there was… understanding? Recognition? Suspicion reared its head, but what was she suspicious of, exactly?

When she paused the moment laid heavy around them. It felt like the Force itself was watching. Obi-wan’s eyes flickered closed for a second - Leia sensed the way he steeled himself as if against an incoming blow. “This boy…” he said. “How long has this been going on? What does he look like? Has he told you his name?”

“It’s been over a year,” Leia admitted. The guilt that wormed its way inside her was tempered by this strange reaction. Maybe she wasn’t the only one who had been keeping secrets. 

“And you didn’t trust us with this,” Obi-wan said. She’d expected disappointment - she had never seen her teacher get angry at her. He was a little like her father that way. The knowledge that she‘d let them down was always a much better way of making her feel bad. That wasn’t disappointment though. That was fear. 

“It wasn’t that I didn’t trust you,” Leia said in protest. “I just… wanted a friend my own age.”

A quick look of pain flashed over her mentors’ faces; Obi-wan, Ahsoka and Rex too. “The other children in the palace…” Ahsoka began. 

“Someone I could be honest with,” Leia said. “Of course I understand why I was home-schooled, that’s normal given that Father is a Senator and Mother is a Queen, but that also made it hard to make friends. Then there were all the secrets I had to hide - the Rebellion, my Jedi training…”

She was going to have to call her parents as soon as she could. They hadn’t been pleased with the idea of her going on her first mission, and they surely hadn’t been anticipating one as dangerous as this had been. She should probably tell them about Luke as well...

“So you trusted a boy you only saw in your sleep?” That was from Kanan, listening to all of this with the wariness of an outsider. 

Putting it like that did make it sound foolish. “He didn’t know who I was,” Leia said. “I didn’t know who he was either - we didn’t look like ourselves in the dream.”

“But he knows who you are now?” Obi-wan asked, that same edge of fear in his voice. 

This was the bit where she had to tell the truth that Kanan and Ezra already knew. “He was on board the Star Destroyer,” she said. “He’s an Inquisitor.”

Once again the reaction was wrong - from Obi-wan and Ahsoka at least. Rex sat back in his seat hissing through his teeth, and Hera along with the rest of Spectre looked suitably alarmed, but her teachers only looked resigned. Leia wasn’t the only one who noticed that they didn’t look as surprised as they should. 

“You already knew,” Kanan said, his eyes narrowing. 

“That is… complicated,” Obi-wan replied. He stroked his beard, though it didn’t entirely hide the uncomfortable twist of his mouth. 

“Did the boy - this Inquisitor - tell you his name?” Ahsoka asked. 

“Of course,” Leia said. “Luke.” She was still watching everyone carefully, and Rex’s eyes widened as she said his name. He looked like he had just realised something that should have been obvious. 

What  _ were  _ these secrets her mentors were hiding?

“He knows my first name as well,” she continued, “and obviously he knows I’m a Jedi padawan, but he doesn’t know anything else about who I am. I wouldn’t put my parents in danger like that - even before I knew he was an Inquisitor he told me he was in an Imperial Academy.”

“What exactly have the two of you discussed?” Obi-wan asked. 

Leia thought back over the past year. Actually it had to be almost two years that she’d known Luke. Two years of friendship, of building up trust. Trust that he hadn’t broken, even though he had more than enough opportunity to do so. Mostly they’d spoken about the small things, little details of each other's lives, about the galaxy, about what was wrong with it and what they wanted to change. She told them that, dragging up conversations she’d half-forgotten in an effort to prove that none of this had compromised the Rebel Alliance or their safety on Alderaan. 

Once she’d finished, the general reaction was one of confusion more than anything. 

In the end Ezra broke the silence first. “So… he’s on our side? I guess he didn’t try all  _ that  _ hard to stop us rescuing Kanan. If you say he hates the Empire as much as we do then maybe he might change sides?”

“All these things he’s told you were only to gain your sympathy,” Obi-wan said. His eyes were as hard and cold as Leia had ever seen them. “I saw him - felt his presence briefly. He is utterly enmeshed in the Dark Side. You know what that does to a person.”

“I know what you’ve told me,” Leia said. “I’m sure it’s true for someone like Vader, or the Grand Inquisitor. It isn’t true for Luke though. It can’t be. He’s trusted me too much, he let us get away on the Destroyer, he’s done more than enough to prove that he’s telling the truth.”

Obi-wan was shaking his head before she’d even finished. “As much as I want to believe it’s possible, it is not. Leia,  _ think _ . What do you really know about his goals? What he might be using you as a tool to achieve?”

“He was there in my cell,” Kanan added. “With Vader. He tried to crack my shields open - I think he would have managed it if you all hadn’t arrived. He only let us go later because he was worried about the stormtroopers - although I suppose even that is more compassion than I would have expected from a Dark Sider.” 

There was no good way to answer Kanan’s first point. She hadn’t known Luke had done that, but she was sure he hadn’t had any choice about it with Vader there. Still, that couldn’t hold any weight to Kanan as a justification for his pain. “I know what he wants,” Leia said, answering Obi-wan instead. “He wants to kill the Emperor.”

Obi-wan sighed - there was too much emotion wrapped up in it for her to tease it out. Frustration? Vindication? Sorrow? “There you are,” he said. “The ambition of any Sith. He wants you - us - alive and beholden to him as his pawns in this fight.”

Ahsoka was frowning though. “Maybe,” she said. “Or maybe Leia sees something we don’t. Leia, what does the Force tell you?”

“It tells me to trust him.”

For some reason this only made Obi-wan more frustrated. “Oh naturally,” he said. “And those connections have never been manipulated by the Sith before.”

“The Force isn’t being clouded by them anymore,” Ahsoka said. 

“No - it has been drowned instead. The Dark Side corrupts everything.” Leia had heard Obi-wan sound bitter before when he talked about the war and its ending, but this was something more raw, more unguarded, than ever before. Of course, she thought guiltily. Vader had killed so many of the Jedi, burned the Temple… Of course those memories would be dragged up by that.

“What connection are you talking about?” Kanan asked. “Honestly, I don’t even understand why Leia and this Inquisitor are meeting in their dreams anyway. I’ve heard of that happening rarely, but only to Masters and their Padawans.”

“Or between family members,” Ahsoka said, with a sad smile. 

“What?” Leia could hardly breathe. The watchful weight of the Force grew even more intense. The reaction, the shock, ran through everyone else in the room. Hera, Sabine and Zeb hadn’t been talking - she could sense how awkward they felt at having stumbled into this intersection of personal drama and operational security - but they were still listening intently.

“Luke is your twin brother,” Ahsoka said. 

The truth sang into the Force, the Light chiming like a sweet-toned bell. Leia couldn’t think of what to say. She could see the edges of how it could be true - she was adopted, she had never pressed too hard to know who her biological parents had been - but the whole picture was murky and nonsensical. 

“Wait?” Ezra said, frowning. “I thought you said you were a Senator’s daughter? How could you have a brother you didn’t know was an Inquisitor?”

“Yes,” Leia said, finding her voice and her anger along with it. She  _ should _ have known she had a brother, and if her mentors had known… “How?”

Obi-wan couldn’t quite meet her eyes. “Luke and Leia’s birth parents are… dead.” The hesitation, the brief flash of uncertainty and guilt in his expression was odd, but Leia didn’t have time to question it. “The two of you were separated as children, for your own safety,” Obi-wan said to her. “Bail and Breha took you, and Luke was sent to live with his Aunt and Uncle, until the Inquisitorius found him.”

“I have more living relatives?” 

He winced. “Not… no longer on that side of the family, no.”

No of course not. It had been foolish to ask. They must have been murdered when Luke was stolen from them. Then the other part of that sentence registered. Not on  _ that _ side of the family…? She wasn’t about to let her sudden curiosity there distract her from the topic at hand though.

“You must have known about Luke from the beginning,” Leia said. “Why didn’t you tell me?” She already had her suspicions about that but she hoped they weren’t true - or not all of the truth. 

“At first, because we still hoped we could find him and rescue him,” Ahsoka said. Her tone was gentle, understanding, but she had lied too. Leia knew that her anger was hypocritical to some extent, that she had lied to them as well, but the two falsehoods weren’t the same. She had hidden a friend, even if he  _ had _ turned out to be an Inquisitor. They had hidden her  _ brother _ . “Later, we weren’t even sure he was still alive,” Ahsoka continued. “Then it felt like it would be cruel to tell you.”

“I still would’ve wanted to know,” Leia protested.  _ Luke  _ still didn’t know. She had to tell him, when she saw him again. She was confident she would. As much as Obi-wan and Ahsoka disapproved, they couldn’t control her dreams. “Is that the only reason? Or did you know we might end up fighting each other?”

“It was a possibility,” Obi-wan said. 

“And you didn’t say anything despite that?”

“It was for your protection,” Obi-wan said. “The pain of fighting your family… I… we… wanted to spare you that.” 

She wanted to shout at him, anger sudden and sharp and roaring in her chest, but he looked so small and tired in that moment that she couldn’t do it. There was something about what he’d said… as though he was speaking from personal experience. 

He had to be talking about the clones, when their control chips activated. 

“That’s… not the only thing,” Ahsoka said. “There’s something else we didn’t tell you.”

Leia sighed. At this point, what else could it be? Surely nothing as important as a secret family member. 

“I say ‘we’.” The glare Ahsoka shot Obi-wan’s way had real heat to it. “I really mean there’s something Obi-wan has been keeping from all of us.”

Obi-wan winced. He still looked very hurt, very weary, older than his years. “For the same reasons,” he said. “Because I thought it was for the best. Because I knew how much it would hurt to hear.”

Rex frowned. “Something I should know too?” he asked.

“Yeah,” Ahsoka said, forcing the word out past some emotion caught in her throat. This was the source of her anger since they’d escaped, it had to be. 

Hera frowned, standing out of her seat. “If this is something personal, and as painful as it sounds, perhaps the rest of us should leave.”

“That might be best,” Obi-wan said. Ahsoka hesitated. 

“I… Maybe for now,” she said. “It’s something I’m still getting straight in my own head. If there’s part of it that other people  _ should _ know.”

Hera nodded, then gestured to the rest of her crew. “Come on then.” To Kanan she said, “Your injuries need to be checked anyway.”

“I’m fine,” Kanan said despite the fact that he winced when he stood up. “I got an answer to my question.”

As soon as they had all left, Obi-wan said, “What would it benefit them to know? They have little enough hope as it is.”

“The name Skywalker doesn’t mean as much to this galaxy as it used to,” Ahsoka replied, with a certain amount of bitterness. “They don’t need to look back to the Jedi Order for hope.”

“You know that isn’t true. There would be no point in teaching Leia as we have otherwise.”

Ahsoka made a wordless sound of frustration. “I don’t know what to think!” she said. “You haven’t given me  _ time _ to think! I have too many of my own questions - I don’t understand how this  _ happened _ .”

“I don’t understand either and I was there!” Obi-wan stood up, his hands balled into fists at his sides. He seemed to realise what he was doing all at once and leaned back against the wall as some of the tension ebbed out of him. 

“This is about General Skywalker,” Rex said. His brow was furrowed, his mouth a hard line. Leia hadn’t seen him angry often either, unless he was talking about the Empire. He was certainly angry now. “Tell me.”

“He’s still alive,” Ahsoka said. She didn’t sound happy about it. 

“Alive?” Rex couldn’t shield his emotions in the Force; hope blossomed like the sun coming out from behind a cloud. Leia recognised the name, had heard it enough times in old war-stories. Stories she didn’t hear as often from Obi-wan, she now realised. Anakin Skywaler had been - or still was? - a Jedi Knight. Obi-wan’s former padawan, his best friend, Ahsoka’s Master, Rex’s General. “But… surely that’s a good thing?”

“It should be,” Ahsoka agreed. She blinked hard, and a faint trickle of tears started to fall over her cheeks. “It isn’t. Obi-wan?”

Obi-wan was staring at the floor. “I told you both Anakin died. And that’s  _ true _ \- in a manner of speaking.”

“How can someone be dead in a manner of speaking?” Leia asked, confused and unsure as to how this related to her in the first place. 

“Anakin fell to the Dark Side,” Obi-wan said. Rex jerked away from him so sharply she almost thought he would hit his head against the bulkhead. His face went ashen. 

“That’s not possible,” he said. “He would never.”

“It doesn’t make sense to me either,” Ahsoka agreed. “But… Darth Vader knew Anakin’s nickname for me. He called me his padawan. He was telling the truth - I felt it in the Force.”

Some inarticulate noise of pain and disbelief ripped free of Rex’s throat. Leia was starting to get a bad feeling about this. The watchful sense of anticipation in the Force was back again. Watching her. Watching this situation. She wasn’t sure which. 

She understood how much this had to be hurting Ahsoka and Rex. It was difficult to get her own head around it. All the stories she’d heard about Anakin Skywalker, about the war, about Vader and his terrible, evil deeds, were running together, clashing against each other. These two identities seemed completely incompatible. She didn’t see how a hero could become a villain so utterly, so rapidly, given the timeline of events as she understood it. If this was the example Obi-wan was drawing on when he said the Dark Side changed someone completely, she could see why he was so disbelieving when it came to Luke. 

“What happened Obi-wan?” Ahsoka asked. “I saw Anakin when the two of you left on that rescue mission. He was normal. He was himself. Tired and worn down by the war, but then we all were. Then Order 66, then the attack on the Temple, it was only a week or so later!”

“If I knew I would tell you,” Obi-wan said. He dropped his head into his hands, then ran his fingers through his hair. “I wasn’t there. I went to Utapau. I didn’t see it. I don’t  _ know _ .”

The silence stretched, long and painful. There was no noise except their breathing, made harsh with emotion. 

“Obi-wan. You lied to Ahsoka, and to Rex,” Leia said cautiously. “I don’t understand why it seems to have been important to keep this secret from me.”

Another rough, anguished breath in and out. “You don’t understand because you never asked me who your parents were.”

Some part of her had to have been hovering on the edge of understanding anyway, putting the pieces together. Even so it was another moment of horrid shock, the world falling away beneath her. Rearranging what she thought she knew about herself. 

Leia moistened her dry lips with a tongue that wasn’t much better. “Anakin Skywalker was -  _ is _ my father?”

“Yes. Yours and Luke’s.” 

Leia’s thoughts whirled. She wasn’t sure how she felt about this. No. There was one thing she knew. She’d always known it. “He - Darth Vader - might be my biological father,” she said, “but Bail Organa is my real father. Just as Breha is my real mother. They raised me. They love me. They’d do anything to protect me.”

Something in Obi-wan seemed to relax. “That’s very true.”

“Ties of blood don’t have to mean anything,” Leia told him, then added quickly, “Luke is still my friend. He was my friend before I knew he was my brother and I don’t believe any of that is a lie. But just because I’m related to Vader…” The very idea had her face curling in disgust automatically. “It doesn’t matter.”

Saying that was one thing.  _ She _ believed it. It didn’t mean other people would feel the same way. She was suddenly very glad that Kanan, Ezra and the rest of the Spectre cell had left. 

“That doesn’t mean you were justified keeping this a secret,” she added. “I’m just not the main person you should be apologising to about  _ this _ .”

She was far angrier about keeping Luke’s existence from her. There was so much emotion flying around though that she could let that lie - for now. 

“I’m going to check on the others,” she said. “I can see you all still have a lot to talk about.” She didn’t need to be here for that bit. 

\----

Rex was having a hard time coming to grips with all this. Not so much the news about the Inquisitor Luke had become. That was just a confirmation of what they’d already known and feared. The difficult part was everything else. Leia’s passionate defence of the brother she hadn’t known she had. The idea that perhaps he wasn’t as lost as they’d thought. Anakin, his General, still amongst the living - yet having that hope cut down immediately by learning he was the man behind the mask of Darth Vader. 

As Obi-wan did his best to explain the events of those few standard days when the Republic came crashing down, Rex’s jaw clenched tighter and tighter until he thought his teeth might shatter under the pressure. He didn’t like the sound of that political back and forth between the Chancellor and the Jedi Council, or the reminder that yes, Anakin had thought of that back-stabbing viper as a friend. 

“Darth Sidious must have done something,” Ahsoka said. She too had grown pale as the story unfolded. Did her stomach roil with as much nausea as his? Was her heart beating fast and shallow, in a way it hadn’t since the war’s end? 

“I’m sure of it,” Obi-wan said. He didn’t look much more composed than either of them. “What I don’t know is what, or how.”

“The temple,” Rex managed to say. “You told us what you saw there. The man we know…”

“It was Vader. Anakin.” Obi-wan’s face twisted, a complicated expression of disgust and sorrow. “I saw the security footage. It hadn’t been tampered with, as much as I wanted to believe that was the case at first. Any doubt I might have had was erased by what happened on Mustafar.”

Mustafar. Obi-wan had sketched over the details of exactly how that fight had gone down, but Anakin - Vader - had appeared on the galactic stage already wearing that life-support suit. Rex could draw the obvious conclusion. He didn’t need the painful details. 

Friends fighting friends. Family,  _ brothers _ , turning on each other. It felt horribly familiar. 

“I’m no Jedi,” he said roughly. “Is this all because of the Dark Side? Is this something Anakin chose? Or… did he  _ have  _ a choice?”

The thought obviously wasn’t one Obi-wan had had before. He stiffened, but then shook his head. “When would the Emperor have had a chance to put a chip in Anakin’s head? Although I cannot understand  _ why _ , I am certain Anakin made a choice to embrace the Dark Side. After that… After he let that poisonous influence in…”

“Leia seemed to think it didn’t have to be that way, with the Dark Side.” Rex had heard all the same stories about the nature of the Force as she had, but he didn’t truly understand it like the Jedi did. He couldn’t sense what they could. 

Another pained expression. “Leia wants to believe the best of her brother. I know how stubborn she can be. We won’t convince her that he’s trying to trick her - all we can do is be there to spare her the worst of the consequences of her trust.”

From Ahsoka’s reaction she didn’t entirely agree, but she didn’t say anything. In Rex’s opinion Obi-wan could be just as stubborn as Leia although he didn’t always recognise that about himself. Perhaps he couldn’t bear to hope after so many terrible things had happened to them in the past. Maybe hope  _ was _ foolish. On the other hand, what else did they have? All of this, fighting the Empire, the Rebellion, was a fool’s hope. 

“There’s no point speculating further,” Obi-wan said. “It’s not as though we can ask Vader about what happened, and even if we could there is no way to undo what has been done. We… we should consider our next move.”

“We haven’t finished talking about this yet,” Ahsoka said, her eyes narrowed. “We should have known all of this years ago, but you lied to us.”

“Everything that was Anakin is dead. It was a lie of omission, one made for the same reason as that we told Leia.” He looked away. “I can’t give you any better reason - and I never anticipated that Vader would try to pull on old bonds. It didn’t seem in his character.”

Ahsoka snarled, that deep-in-the-throat rumble of an agitated togruta. “You’re not forgiven.”

“I didn’t ask to be.”

Ahsoka put her anger aside. Rex might not be able to sense that in the Force but he could see the change in her body-language. “The Spectre cell can’t return to Lothal,” she said. “Vader and Tarkin would just follow them there, burn the planet to a cinder to find them and get a lead on the rest of us. Leia told them her name.”

“They won’t be eager to leave their planet behind,” Obi-wan said. “It  _ is  _ the only option. Perhaps Phoenix squadron?” 

“We’d better get them back for this discussion,” Ahsoka said. 

“I’ll go,” Rex said, standing. There was something he wanted to talk to Leia about anyway. 

The atmosphere was a little less close and tense outside of that room. He headed past the cabin doors along the passageway to the living area. Hera and Kanan weren’t there - they must be in one of the other rooms with a med-kit, as much an excuse to catch up in private as to tend the man’s wounds. Rex wasn’t oblivious to what those two felt for each other. Wasn’t that against the Jedi Code? Obi-wan was a bit distracted to mention it if it was. Zeb was cleaning his bo-rifle, which had seen a fair amount of use, and pretending he wasn’t listening to the conversation currently happening between Leia, Ezra and Sabine. A conversation about Luke. The group's droid was jacked into the ship’s systems, but almost certainly listening as well. 

“It’s not about being afraid to escape then,” Sabine was saying, leaning forwards over the holo-table. “He  _ wants  _ to stay where he is?”

“If Luke is going to assassinate the Emperor it’s the only chance he has to get close,” Leia replied. 

“That’s really what he’s planning?” Ezra said. “It’s… a bit more ambitious than anything  _ we’ve  _ ever done. So I guess I can see his point.”

“Obi-wan said that of course it’s ambitious, he’s a Sith,” Leia said, with a sigh. “I knew he would react this way.”

“He’s  _ Obi-wan Kenobi _ ,” Ezra said, the name tinged with a hero-worship that was all too familiar from the war. “Surely he knows what he’s talking about?”

Rex thought that might be a good point to step in. “Leia,” he said. “We were hoping to get everyone together again to discuss our next plan, but do you have a moment first?”

Leia slid out from her seat. “Of course.”

They went back into the corridor between the cockpit and the living area. There wasn’t a great deal of space on a ship like this for private conversations. 

“I know we might be caught up in how  _ we _ feel about this news,” Rex said, feeling awkward already. “But this has got to be a shock for you as well.”

“Being related to Vader?” She was scowling. “It’s not exactly what I imagined, whenever I did think about my biological parents. But… it  _ shouldn’t _ matter. There’s a reason I never asked more questions growing up - even when I assumed they were ordinary, good people who died in the Clone War. Bail and Breha are my parents. I’m not worried about some kind of… evil bloodline. That’s the sort of thing that happens in holo-net media.”

“It’s your brother as well, isn’t it?”

Her expression hardened. “He’s not evil either. And… he can’t possibly know that Vader is his father.”

Rex hadn’t even thought about that part of it. A ripple of unease went down his spine, a slight cold sweat with it. On the other hand was that something Sith even cared about, unless it was useful to them? “Vader will keep looking for us,” he said. “I understand something about having to fight your family.”

Her gaze softened. 

“If you ever need to talk about it, I’ll be there,” he continued.

“Thank you,” she said. “I knew it was coming between Luke and I. If we’re careful, neither of us will have to hurt the other.”

“Skywalker luck has always been a strange thing,” Rex conceded. “Let’s hope it holds.”

“Speaking of family, there didn’t seem to be a good time to ask about my mother. Obi-wan always said the Jedi didn’t have long-term commitments outside of the order. Was she…”

“Padme wasn’t a fling,” Rex was quick to say. “Anakin felt very deeply about her - he might have tried to hide it, but he wasn’t very good at it. There was a betting pool in the 501st… Well. That’s not what you asked.”

“Padme… that name sounds familiar.”

“Padme Amidala. She was the Senator for Naboo, and one of Bail’s good friends.”

Leia’s eyes widened. “Father told me stories about her. He never mentioned…”

Rex winced slightly. “We’ve all been keeping more secrets than we should.”

“I’ve never seen a picture of her,” Leia said. “That seems odd now that I think about it, given how warmly Father spoke of her. Do we look alike?”

Rex could only nod. If Ahsoka hadn’t let the truth slip all those years ago, he thought he would have guessed at some point.

“Father said she was assassinated by the Emperor, but the Empire covered it up. Their propaganda claims the Jedi killed her.” Sudden fear entered her eyes. “Did Vader…?”

“I don’t know,” Rex said. He had never had any reason to question Bail’s account of events before, but now Leia had him wondering too. “Another question for Obi-wan.”

Leia nodded. “There’s a lot I need to know. When we’re safe, I want to hear more about them both.”

“I have plenty of stories,” Rex promised. “You’ll hear them all.” 


	23. Chapter 23

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the aftermath, no-one is quite sure where they stand.

**4 BBY - Mustafar, Atravis System, Outer Rim Territories**

Vader wasn’t even with the shuttle by the time Luke got there. Instead the raging, storm-presence of him had moved outside of the Star Destroyer, presumably in the Grand Inquisitor’s TIE Advance model that was now missing from the hanger. Luke clutched the stump of his wrist close to his chest, trying not to move any of the muscles in his forearm that would just send pain shooting through him, and managed to feel for the shuttle’s ramp release with the Force. It hissed open and he hurried to the cockpit. 

None of his lessons on Arkanis had involved piloting, and Cal had always been the one to fly whenever they left on a mission. Luke had thought about this before, and he was almost certain it was another method of control. Another tool that he would’ve needed in order to escape, denied to him. Perhaps once he had proved himself enough he would be taught - although in fact he already knew a little. Those skills were picked up early on Tatooine on old speeders and speeder-bikes. A shuttle wasn’t a speeder, but some of the basics were the same. 

Around him  _ Sovereign  _ was still blaring warnings, and the gravity was fluctuating in an unpleasant way. He couldn’t stay here - and it wasn’t as though he had to wait for the Grand Inquisitor. Darth Vader had already left in pursuit of the Rebels. Taking the shuttle would be fine. 

It wasn’t easy with only one hand, but with the Force to assist Luke was able to get the shuttle in the air and shakily out of the hangar bay. Out in open space all he had to do was pull away from the sinking Star Destroyer and adjust for Mustafar’s gravity well. There were still three Destroyers out here, and their scanners would pick him up soon enough. By the lack of turbolaser fire, the Rebels had already jumped to hyperspace. 

Eventually he was hailed, tractor-locked, and dragged into a different hanger-bay where it turned out to be surprisingly easy to order someone to return him to the planet below. Apparently even a junior-rank Inquisitor merited that much. Luke hadn’t been sure - he hadn’t really interacted with normal Imperials before. Lord Vader was still a point of incandescent rage out in space, a howling black-hole void dragging the Force into itself. Let that all stay pointed at Kenobi, Luke thought uneasily. 

Vader’s presence was starting to move down into the atmosphere though, and Luke thought he’d better be on the ground to meet him. The Sith would want to know what had happened, and if he had to wait for a report his anger might lock onto Luke as a target instead. That… would not be good.

He got the pilot to drop him at Vader’s castle, then Luke loitered around on the landing pad trying not to let the strong ache from his arm get to him too much. One of the robed servants that tended to float around the place turned up after a few minutes, got a good look at him, raised an eyebrow, and retreated again. Yeah. Luke was sure he made for a sorry sight. He would much rather be heading to medbay right now, but Vader was getting closer. 

The TIE Advance broke through the clouds with the fighter’s typical engine scream. Luke straightened up and tried to look presentable. It came in to land fast, bringing a rush of heated air with it, then the top popped open and Vader emerged. One Force-assisted leap brought him up out of the cockpit, and another got him to the ground. He was immediately striding forward, his cape flapping behind him and everything caught up in the Force-stormclouds of what was obviously a foul mood. 

“Lord Vader,” Luke said, managing to kneel in the appropriate fashion. It was going overboard compared to what the Sith usually expected from him, but this felt like a good time for that. 

Vader’s head turned, his attention coalescing in a way that made Luke think he hadn’t actually registered his presence before right now. He winced. 

“What?” the Sith snapped. 

Luke was taken off guard. “I… thought you would want my report, my lord.”

The heavy weight of Vader’s gaze behind those blank red lenses pressed down on him. “Obviously you have failed me.” The words were darkly sarcastic, a lash of malice behind them. “Yet apparently not as significantly as the Grand Inquisitor.”

“Jarrus killed him,” Luke offered up. 

“Then he was even more incompetent than I imagined.” A pause. “I expected better from you.”

Guilt surged in Luke’s stomach, cold and sickening. He wanted to apologise, even though this outcome had been what he wanted all along. A Sith did not care for apologies though, and it wouldn’t be accepted. It would only be a sign of weakness. “He was surprisingly powerful,” he said. It had to be the truth because otherwise the Grand Inquisitor would still be alive. He didn’t dare lie. “The two apprentices were… competent as well.”

“That is self-evident,” Vader said. The Dark Side was pounding in echo of his anger and Luke felt it pressing down on him. His breath caught in his throat, and he didn’t think that was from fear. He wasn’t actually afraid, even now, just caught between two duties. It was surprising to realise he actually felt some kind of loyalty towards Vader. He shouldn’t. Vader was complicit in all the parts of the Empire he hated. Yet apparently all those lessons had left him feeling conflicted.

The intangible grip wasn’t a stranglehold, but he wasn’t sure he could trust that to Vader’s self-control right now. Would it help if he pointed out the Spectre cell might still lead them to Obi-wan Kenobi? No, probably not. Mentioning the Jedi General couldn’t possibly make Vader calmer. Luke gathered the Dark Side into himself, having to tug and tear to wrest it away from Vader’s magnetic pull, and prepared to try and fight off the Sith’s hold.

He wasn’t sure how things might have gone if one of the palace servants hadn’t arrived. 

“Lord Vader,” the man said. “The Emperor is calling.”

Vader’s grasp dropped immediately. He strode past Luke without a second thought and disappeared inside his citadel. The servant followed him, leaving Luke alone. 

He sat up rubbing his throat. Not a  _ complete _ disaster, but it hadn’t gone that well either. It didn’t seem as though Lord Vader wanted a breakdown of what had happened up there, so Luke supposed he should go back to the main complex. Maybe Vader’s anger would have cooled by the next time he saw him? 

\----

**4 BBY - Aldera City, Alderaan, Alderaan System, Core Worlds**

“Obi-wan and Ahsoka told me the truth,” Leia told him. Bail felt his heart drop into his stomach. His daughter watched his reaction over the holo and nodded, her mouth a firm line. She’d always been good at reading people and that wasn’t all to do with being a Jedi. “You knew as well. I suppose that makes sense.”

“Leia…”

“I’m not… no. I  _ am  _ angry.” He could see that in her eyes. There had always been fire at the heart of his Leia. A passion that matched that of her first parents when it came to the things they cared about. Obi-wan had worried about that in the past, but Bail never had. Like Padme, Leia’s anger had been tempered by her desire for justice, by her empathy and her good heart. It hurt to have that fire turned on him now, but Bail could hardly say that she was wrong to feel that way. 

“How much did Obi-wan tell you?” he asked. 

“About Luke, and about my parents. My  _ birth _ parents.” Leia scowled. “Vader might be my blood father, but that doesn’t give him any kind of claim over me. I might not be happy with you and mother right now, but you’re still my parents.”

Some part of the anxiety twisting Bail’s guts into knots relaxed. These lies had never sat easy on his shoulders. He knew Breha didn’t like it either. They could excuse the omission around her birth parents because Leia had never really pushed to know about them, and even though Leia wasn’t going into politics like he had once expected for her that didn’t entirely shield her from potential exposure to Vader or the Emperor. It wasn’t unheard of for them to visit the Core Worlds, particularly those like Alderaan which had a reputation for pushing back against them. 

If Leia had known her father was alive and bringing planets to their knees, and then had ever encountered him in person, would she have been able to hide her reaction? 

Not telling her about Luke was something different, and he had argued with Obi-wan against the secrecy. In the end he’d bowed to the Jedi’s wishes. Now he wondered if that had been a mistake. 

“I am sorry, dear heart,” Bail said. “We didn’t want this to hurt you.” 

“You might have stopped it from hurting me in some ways, but not in all of them,” Leia said. “You don’t need to tell me why, I can guess. But… are there any more secrets I ought to know about?”

Bail frowned. “Not that I am aware of. But depending on how much detail Obi-wan and Ahsoka went into…”

Leia shrugged. “Not much. Ahsoka and Rex didn’t even know that Anakin Skywalker and Darth Vader were one and the same.”

That came as a surprise. “I thought Obi-wan would have told them years ago!”

“Ahsoka isn’t very happy with him either,” Leia said, with the ghost of a smirk. 

Bail sighed. “You’ve already heard my stories about the last days of the Republic. There are a few details I had to leave out before. And no doubt you want to know more about Padme and Anakin’s relationship - what little I know of it. They didn’t speak of it - they tried to keep it hidden, although I wasn’t the only one to suspect the truth. When you get back to Alderaan…”

“Ah,” Leia said. “About that…”

Once again Bail’s heart sank. “Leia, what happened? I thought this was a simple mission breaking an ally out from an Imperial prison on Lothal?” That had sounded bad enough. Bail had been fretting about how this would go since Leia and the others left. Objectively he’d known this would happen one day, that the fight against the Empire would always be part of Leia’s life whether she followed his and Padme’s footsteps to become a Senator, or trained as a Jedi. That didn’t mean he had to like it. 

Leia winced slightly. “You’re not going to be happy about it,” she warned him, and started to explain. 

She was right. He wasn’t happy at all. 

\----

**4 BBY - VCX-100 freighter** **_Ghost_ ** **, in hyperspace**

The heat and the scent of sulphur assaulted his senses along with the richness of rendering fat and roasting meat. Obi-wan’s stomach churned, nausea clawing up his throat. He turned and looked down the bank of cinders and ash already knowing what he would find there, unable to look away, unable to walk away. He was paralysed into inaction by his horror. 

Black synthleather against black ground. Sickly yellow eyes rimmed in red staring hatefully from a pale face. Flames licking up over the limbless body writhing up the bank, thick, heavy smoke curling up in dark clouds - memory made worse through the blurred lens of emotion. Anakin screamed wordless rage to the sky and Obi-wan flinched backwards. His lightsaber was still in his hand, still lit, the kyber within vibrating along with each beat of his heart as it broke inside his chest. 

Or perhaps it had already broken on Coruscant, in the temple, cutting down the men he’d known and cared for over three long years of war, watching security footage of his brother in all but blood killing  _ younglings _ . 

Mustafar was darkness and death all around him. The only Light in the Force here was the small glowing spark of it inside Obi-wan’s chest. Everywhere he looked or sensed burned against the edges of his mind. He was reeling, choking in it, drowning in it, disorientated and lost. 

“Master…” The call was half anger, half desperation. Anakin - Vader - clawed at the stone and advanced inch by painful inch, still burning. This was where Obi-wan had walked away before, but now he couldn’t do it. He couldn’t make his body move. As the fire ate at Anakin’s flesh it seemed almost to form a shape looming over him, pressed against him as close as a lover. Lava surged and churned in the river below - a great wave of it broke suddenly in a spurt of heat and light that dazzled Obi-wan’s eyes. As he blinked the after-images away, black stone thrust towards the sky. Lava poured from the brutal shapes of the tower’s flanks like water as the castle rose up above him, vast and overpowering as a mountain. The molten rock at its base parted. 

Darth Vader - Vader as he was now, armoured and implacable - emerged with the river dripping sluggishly from him. He stalked forwards with the slow inevitability of dreams and knelt over the eternally burning body of his former self. The fire flickered around him, throwing red and yellow and orange in wild unsettling patterns over the reflective surface of his mask. Below him Anakin looked towards Obi-wan with desperation in his suddenly blue eyes. 

“Master please…” Anakin begged. “Obi-wan, save me. Please, please, don’t leave me here.”

Vader’s fist gripped Anakin’s hair that somehow was not burning despite the flames licking through its tangled mess. He pulled him upwards, an arc of pain and helplessness. His cloak spread out around them both like dark, leathery wings. 

“No help is coming for you,” the Sith said. Each word vibrated in Obi-wan’s bones. “Your Master does not care. No-one cares. You are alone. I am all that is left.”

“No,” Obi-wan said, but the word fell almost silent from his lips. 

“Obi-wan!” Anakin cried, all the more desperate. His one remaining arm reached out. “Obi-wan!”

“He doesn’t love you,” Vader said. “He hates you. Of course he hates you. You fell. He will never forgive you.”

“That’s not true,” Obi-wan said. He spoke without conscious thought. He could only react, passive, useless. “If you’d asked me to Anakin, of course I would have forgiven you.”

Vader’s helmet tilted so that the blank eyes looked straight at him. Anakin’s gaze snapped to him too. They spoke with one, dual-toned voice. “But you ran. You left me for dead, burning in pain, and you ran. You stole my children. You lied. You hid. You never tried.”

Obi-wan shut his eyes as though that could blot out the horror in front of him, but it did nothing. “You were dead,” he whispered. “You were dead. There was nothing left.”

“Am I?” There was dark amusement in the doubled voice. Anakin’s form blurred as the fire roared, briefly taking him over completely. The wind whipped around them, hotter than Obi-wan could bear. When it cleared, it wasn't Anakin in Vader’s grasp anymore. It was Luke. His eyes blazed gold with an almost metallic sheen, reflecting the ravaged landscape around them. 

“Are we?” Luke said. His smile was like an open gash across his face. He wore the Inquisitor’s uniform like a second skin. “Well, Obi-wan? Are we dead? Leia doesn’t think so.”

“Come to us Obi-wan,” Vader said. “Aren’t you the famed Negotiator? Do they not say you can end a war with a word? What use is your strength, your Light, if you cannot bring us back?”

Obi-wan couldn’t think. His head was whirling. He could no longer tell where he stood, what was real, what was true. He turned away and did the only thing he was good for anymore. 

He ran. 

He woke as sharply as a drop from a height. The sound of his breathing was harsh in his ears, his heart hammering against the inside of his chest, damp tears prickling at the corners of his eyes. The nightmare sat stark and heavy in the front of his mind. 

It hadn’t rung in the Force like a vision. This had been a dream, thrown up by his own mind, which made it no less painful. Was he really doubting a fact he’d known since the Temple creche? The Dark Side was vast and hungry and swallowed up those who fell, eating out the parts of them that were good and right and  _ them _ and leaving a walking corpse behind. 

The Force told Leia otherwise. But emotion could cloud the Force. It had clouded things for Obi-wan. Even after Anakin swore himself to a Sith, even at the very moment he was slaughtering younglings in the Temple, their bond had burned bright and seemingly true in the Force as though nothing was the matter at all. It was only on Mustafar itself that the illusion began to burn away, a little more destroyed with every clash of their blades. 

No. No, if Anakin had still lived in some sense then, Obi-wan would have seen it. Felt it. Instead the last remnants of Anakin’s presence had vanished on the banks of the lava river, disappearing into the Dark Side like curls of flimsi immolated as ephemeral smoke.

Obi-wan couldn’t imagine trying to go back to sleep. He slipped out of the bunk and knelt on the bare metal floor of the borrowed cabin. Meditation would clear his head. It would stop these foolish doubts. This was the kind of hope that got people killed. 

\----

**4 BBY - Mustafar, Atravis System, Outer Rim Territories**

Darth Vader knelt before his Master, unable to give his full attention as he ought. Obi-wan was getting further away with every heartbeat, running as he always did. It had been years since the last sign of his presence and now he would go to ground once again. It might be years more until the next opportunity to mete out the vengeance and death that Kenobi richly deserved and that thought was intolerable. 

“Something on your mind, Lord Vader?” the Emperor said. As always the velvet of his voice carried beneath it the promise of punishment. 

“I am sorry, my Master,” Vader said, bowing his head further. “Kenobi…”

“Say no more my Apprentice,” Sidious said. “I have heard more than enough about your vendetta.” It was true that Vader had spoken of it often, frequently to make the argument that he ought to be allowed to continue to pursue the lead of the moment rather than be distracted by the business of Empire. It was not an argument that held much weight with his Master. 

“The Rebels will return to Lothal,” Vader said. “They care too greatly for its citizens to stay away. When they do they will be captured once again, and they  _ will _ lead me to Kenobi.”

“Obi-wan Kenobi is not that manner of fool,” Sidious snapped. “Nor is your  _ former _ padawan. They will not allow this band of supposed ‘freedom fighters’ to be used against them. Remember, the compassion of the Jedi only went so far.”

“I will kill the people of Lothal one by one until they have no choice but to turn themselves over.”

His Master’s expression of distaste was obvious even beneath the hood. “Lothal is not yet in open rebellion against us but your plan would quickly change that. The factories there are too useful to us to allow wanton slaughter - for now. Governor Tarkin will deal with Lothal. I know you are capable of subtlety at times, Lord Vader. Permit this to be one of those times.”

His Master would gladly sacrifice a planet if it benefited  _ him _ , but he would not do so for Vader. That knowledge grated inside him like sandpaper. 

“What do you suggest?” he asked. 

“Kenobi will run like the coward he is,” Darth Sidious sneered. “He will do so alone, and he will ensure that you know it so that your attention remains focussed upon  _ him _ .”

Vader shifted uneasily. This did not sound like a problem. “One simple Rebel cell is irrelevant compared to the prize of Kenobi’s death,” he said. 

“One simple Rebel cell now containing four Jedi,” his Master said. “Of course this is the purpose of the Inquisitorius, is it not?” Some of Vader’s thoughts about them must have filtered out into the Force, because Sidious added, “Do you doubt their capabilities?”

“The Grand Inquisitor was slain by his own prisoner,” Vader said, not attempting to conceal his contempt this time. 

“Do you forget Lord Vader that  _ you _ were given the responsibility of training the Inquisitors?” his Master said, the words snapping like a whip. Vader found himself bracing for lightning instinctively, but of course the distance separating them was too great. That did not mean there would be no punishment, only that it would come in other ways. “If they are weak failures, the blame lies with you.”

It would do no good to point out that the Grand Inquisitor thought himself above such matters as ongoing training - and certainly would not ever deign to do so with someone he hated and resented as much as Vader. For some time the pau’an had thought himself second to the Emperor, Apprentice in all but name. That had been before Vader was introduced to the insult to the Sith that called itself the Inquisitorius. 

“I shall assign some Inquisitors to track the Rebels,” Vader said. His former Apprentice would slaughter them all, no doubt, and he would be blamed for that, but he did not care. He cared even less for the lives of mere Inquisitors. “I will track Kenobi alone.”

“No,” his Master said immediately. “You have failed to kill your former Master several times now my Apprentice. You will take Second Sister and Second Brother with you.  _ I  _ will decide which Inquisitors are  _ competent _ enough to send after the other Jedi.”

Vader bowed his head once again in acknowledgement. Having his own competence questioned, having these decisions removed from him, was part of Darth Sidious’ punishment. Small humiliations were something he was used to, although knowing the intent behind them did nothing to relieve the sting. 

“You are dismissed,” his Master said, and cut off the connection on his own end. 

Hatred surged deep in Vader’s heart and the Sith let it come, let it rise and fill him with the strength and power of the Dark Side. Once he slew Kenobi and burned the bones of his former Master in Mustafar’s fires, he would begin to turn his attention to the Master he had now. 

It was the natural order of the Sith, after all. 

\----

Luke saw Third Brother visibly wince when he came into the medbay to see the droid working on the ruin of Luke’s prosthetic hand. “More injuries?” he said. “I thought you got enough of that from Second Sister?”

“There were Jedi,” Luke said - that was explanation enough. 

Cal’s gaze dropped. He couldn’t quite meet Luke’s eyes. His shields were clamped down tight but Luke was sure that was guilt hiding behind the studied blankness of his expression. “They must have been powerful,” he said. “We all felt the Grand Inquisitor die.” 

Luke wasn’t surprised by that - it had been something like an explosion in the Force, which was mildly ironic considering it had also caused or been caused by an explosion in the engines of a Star Destroyer. He was torn between the urge to confide in Third Brother and the knowledge that he couldn’t afford to let anything incriminating slip, not even to Cal. Luke would call them friends but they were still caught in the realities of the Inquisitorius. 

It would look odd if he didn’t give at least some of the details though. 

“Governor Tarkin was bringing a Jedi prisoner here to Mustafar,” Luke said. Talking also made a good distraction from the med-droid clipping burned wires away around his wrist. “Someone named Kanan Jarrus.” It didn’t get any kind of reaction from Cal. Not someone he’d known then. “The Rebel cell he was part of came to rescue him.” Luke gave him a brief summary of the strike force, both its Jedi and non-Jedi parts, and successfully distracted Third Brother from asking about most of the Jedi by dropping the name of Obi-wan Kenobi into the conversation. 

“Shavit,” Cal said, eyes wide. “No wonder there’s such a storm in the Dark Side around Castle Vader just now.”

Luke could only nod in agreement. The strength of it was faintly terrifying. 

“So Kenobi killed the Grand Inquisitor?” Third Brother asked. 

“No, it was Jarrus,” Luke said. “Not long after he’d just been broken out of his cell either - and the Grand Inquisitor was trying to break through his shields a while before that.”

“That’s… impressive.” 

“He must be an excellent duelist,” Luke agreed. “I felt his shielding for myself when I was up there and from that at least I didn’t get the sense he was as powerful in the Force as even Second Sister.”

“It’s useful to know all of this about them,” Cal said. He held up a code cylinder. “We’re heading out again once your hand has been fixed up. Orders from the Emperor himself.”

“From the Emperor?” A cold prickle of discomfort ran down Luke’s spine. 

The fear he felt was echoed in Cal’s eyes. “I don’t know why the Emperor sent them personally. The orders themselves are simple enough.” That wasn’t entirely true, Luke could tell. “We’re to hunt down and eliminate this Rebel cell.”

Luke’s mouth went dry. He swallowed, and covered for his reaction by saying, “Including Kenobi?”

Third Brother shook his head. “The expectation is that they’ll split up. Kenobi will leave to draw some of the heat - Lord Vader and Second Sister are going after him. We’re meant to get the rest of them.”

Even if he wasn’t hesitating because of Leia, Luke wouldn’t have been keen on this assignment for a variety of reasons. The togruta Jedi had helped Kenobi fight off Vader, which meant she was formidable, and Kanan Jarrus had just proved he was a lot tougher than might be expected. That wasn’t even counting his padawan. 

“So… what’s the plan?” he asked. 

Cal sighed. “It wouldn’t be smart of them to go back to their base on Lothal, but that’s where they’ve been operating up until now. We should go there to gather information at least.”

Luke flinched, although that was because the med-droid had just jammed a new prosthetic into its connector on his wrist. Sensation returned in a tingling flow of pain. He wiggled the fingers, submitted to the droid’s poking and prodding, then slid off the bed. 

“Better not waste any time then,” he said. Information gathering he could do. He would just have to warn Leia about this the next time they saw each other in their dreams. 

\----

**4 BBY - VCX freighter** **_Ghost_ ** **, accompanying Phoenix Squadron, undisclosed location**

Kanan settled down in his cabin and tried to relax. Everything had been changing since the escape from Mustafar and he hadn’t found his feet yet. Even the  _ Ghost _ felt off-kilter with its three new passengers. It had been so long since he’d felt even the faintest trace of another Jedi and now there were two of them sharing the same ship with him. Three, before Master Kenobi left. 

He should have felt happy. Instead he was avoiding them, something inside of him raw and scraped out. He was on edge all the time. He didn’t think it was because of what the Grand Inquisitor had done to him, although that might have made it worse. No, this was something older. Guilt. The guilt of Master Bilaba dying to keep him safe. The guilt of making it out, when everyone else hadn’t. The guilt of surviving. 

That was what had made him hide for so long since the birth of the Empire, that had him constantly doubting himself and his abilities when it came to training Ezra. Even now something in the back of his head kept telling him that Ahsoka could teach his padawan far better than he ever could. He only had to look at Leia and her self-assured competence to see that. 

Ezra had chosen him though. Kanan told himself that was what mattered. Ahsoka was helping him anyway, and she’d even said he was doing well. 

Kanan was less sure what Master Kenobi thought of him. He didn’t know what he thought of Master Kenobi anymore either. The man had been his hero once. The hero of hundreds of Jedi, of millions of ordinary people across the galaxy. That image of him didn’t fit with this… bone-weary man who sat in front of his friends and admitted he’d been lying to them. Sure he had his reasons, and the horrors of the Empire made a lot of things necessary that nobody would ever have countenanced before, but it still felt wrong. 

He wasn’t in any position to judge, he supposed. 

Meditation ought to help the way he was feeling about everything, but it wasn’t working. Even now as Kanan took deep, careful breaths and reached out to the Force he couldn’t help but be aware of something else alongside the Light. Of course the Dark Side was always there these days, but this was new. It had been there since Mustafar, since fighting the Grand Inquisitor. 

A chill went through Kanan even now when he thought about how differently things could have gone. There had been that long moment when Ezra went over the edge of the catwalk when he’d genuinely believed his padawan was dead. There hadn’t been time to process it. The agonised edge of fear that filled him, the fear for Ezra’s safety, had drained away and it didn’t leave any space behind for him to fear for himself. The hollow emptiness of sudden grief had crystalised inside his heart in a moment, and in the shards of it rage had come in its place. 

Kanan knew the dangers of anger. Of course he did. All Jedi did. The Dark had been there, offering itself, just waiting for him to call on it when he’d held out so long against the torture and the drugs and the knowledge that all his tormentors wanted was for him to break. Perhaps it was that knowledge that made the rage cold rather than hot. That channelled it into something controlled. 

So he hadn’t reached out to the Force with anger, but with something more… righteous? That didn’t seem like the right word. He continued to turn the memory over and over in his mind with the logic that calm meditation brought. He remembered going past the anger and feeling for the source of it. It had been  _ protective _ , hadn’t it? He’d thought  _ ‘my padawan, mine, mine, how dare you!’,  _ less words than pure emotion. He remembered cold determination, a hardness behind his eyes, a will to see this evil man dead. 

Kanan knew he’d touched something in the Force that wasn’t the Light, but surely it couldn’t have been the Dark either. He was still himself. The Light was still right there, still came at his call. If he’d Fallen he wouldn’t still be doubting it. It wasn’t a state that  _ could  _ be doubted. 

Perhaps it had been whatever kind of mental place you needed to be in for vaapad. Kanan had seen his Grandmaster Mace Windu fight in the practise salles plenty of times, sensed the knife’s-edge dance held under his iron control. He didn’t know what it felt like from the inside. He hadn’t trained in that form. 

It had to be something like that. Anything more didn’t make sense. 

But he couldn’t shake the worry that it  _ was  _ something more. That was the second reason he was avoiding the other Jedi; feeling they would sense he was corrupted somehow. He feared their reaction to that less than he feared the outside confirmation of his own anxiety. He just… had to keep himself rooted in the Light and make sure whatever that was didn’t happen again.


	24. Chapter 24

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Luke learns a surprising number of things.

**4 BBY - Lothal, Lothal system, Lothal Sector, Outer Rim Territories**

Alexsandr Kallus looked down at the datapad he’d been handed and then up into the faces of the two new Inquisitors standing in front of him. They were both male humans, although from the metallic gold sheen of the eyes on the younger one he thought the boy might have some alien in his genepool a few generations back. Zabrak perhaps. The datapad was sparse on details.

“What happened to the last one?” he asked. The pau’an had disappeared with his Jedi prisoner on Tarkin’s Star Destroyer and that was the last they’d heard about it - officially. Internal ISB communications spoke of that very same vessel going down over Mustafar due to catastrophic engine failure, but that sort of information wasn’t being put about outside of the Bureau. 

“He’s dead,” the older man said, without emotion. “We’re his replacements.” He had slicked back ginger hair, amber eyes, and several thin silver scars across his face. A droid of some non-standard model was mag-locked to the back of his armour. 

Kallus wondered if their number would go up by one each time something like this happened. From what he’d seen of the Grand Inquisitor, he was an accomplished warrior and reasonably effective as a strategist, so news of his death was surprising. The reports hadn’t mentioned the size or composition of the rescue efforts though. Any single man could be overpowered by sufficient numbers. 

“Your designations are… Third Brother and Fifteenth Brother?” Doubt couldn’t entirely be kept out of his voice. The titles were odd to say the least, but Inquisitors in general were odd. Even in the ISB, where it was their job to know things, most of what was said about them was unsubstantiated rumour. Now he had some personal experience Kallus had confirmed that their mystical powers really did exist. In some ways their abilities reminded him of the Jedi Order. Growing up on Coruscant meant hearing more about their activities and strange powers than most of the galaxy, though even then Kallus had never actually seen a Jedi until Kanan Jarrus. Of course there were plenty of religious organisations in the galaxy. The Jedi surely didn’t have a monopoly on… whatever it was they did. 

“We will need to see all of the reports about the rebel cell codenamed Spectre,” Third Brother said. His droid poked its optic up over his shoulder and warbled agreement. 

“There’s been no sign that they have returned to Lothal,” Kallus warned them. 

“We’re not expecting them to anytime soon, but the more information we have about them, the better chance of tracking them down.”

Kallus nodded, pleased with this show of diligence. If only some of the local officers could be as engaged in their jobs. That was simply the way of it on these backwater scuzz-holes though. The Empire’s best and brightest made their way to the core and only came back if the need was great. “If there’s anything else you need I’ll be available to assist you. Otherwise I believe Governor Tarkin requires my services in reinforcing the Empire’s control over Lothal. There has been increasing unrest since the rebel broadcast.”

“Then we won’t take up any more of your time.”

As he left Kallus wondered about the other one, the boy who hadn’t spoken. How old was he? He looked like a teenager. Perhaps he was a trainee? Neither the ISB, the Navy, or any other branch of the Imperial military for that matter, started their cadets off that young. Maybe he was just older than he looked. 

It wasn’t his problem.

\----

Luke spent the next couple of weeks waiting for Leia to show up in his dreams, but he kept on being disappointed. The frequency of those lucid dreams wasn’t something he had any control over, but aside from when he was on Mustafar it didn't usually take this long. Was it something he was doing, or something that Leia was? He didn’t think she would be trying to avoid him but perhaps she’d felt worse about their meeting than he realised. They'd both done what they had to,  _ more _ than what they had to in Luke's case. Letting Ezra and Kanan leave surely had to convince Leia and her friends that he wasn't evil just because he was an Inquisitor. 

If the dreams wouldn't happen on their own, there had to be a way to  _ make  _ them happen. Luke just wasn't sure how yet. 

Waiting to speak to Leia wasn't the only thing occupying his time. The first priority once he and Cal arrived on Lothal was to make their way through the surprisingly sizable number of files the locals had on Jarrus and his rebel cell. They were each going through the datapads independently to make sure they both got the whole picture. It was interesting. Obviously there was nothing about Leia, Kenobi or the other Jedi - who'd turned out to be someone named Ahsoka Tano that Cal  _ had  _ mentioned in passing before - but there were detailed dossiers on Jarrus himself, his partner Hera Syndulla, his padawan Ezra Bridger, the Lasat warrior Garrazeb Orrelios and the Mandalorian Sabine Wren. Even their astromech droid C1-10P was included.

Luke hadn't spent very much time thinking about rebel insurgents up until now. In his lessons on Arkanis they were described as dangerous criminals, some only misguided but most actively trying to make the galaxy a less pleasant place. Some were just gangs by another name, out for personal gain and credits and taking advantage of the chaos they caused. Others wanted a return to the days of the Republic when corruption and the big corporations ran rampant across a thousand planets, because some of their freedom to harm others had been taken away from them or they didn't like the measures that were necessary to maintain order. Still others sympathised with the weak and misguided philosophy of the Jedi Order, and were fighting the Empire on a simple point of pride. Nothing Luke had heard seemed to acknowledge the existence of people like Leia, who saw the same problems that Luke did, who genuinely did want to make things better, but who didn't see any way to do that from inside the system. 

Leia's parents were important, influential, Luke knew that, but she was Force-sensitive. Someone would have noticed eventually, if she had tried to go into politics. He wasn't actually sure how long she'd been a Jedi padawan, but he understood her motivation, her reasons, at least. He was a lot less confident about the Jedi Masters she was learning from. What did they want? What were their aims? Whatever exaggerations the Sith might believe about the Jedi, everything Luke had heard so far seemed to agree that the old Order hadn't exactly been a force for good in the galaxy. Could Kenobi and Tano see that now? Or did they just want everything to go back to the way it used to be? The Empire might not be working, but the Republic certainly hadn't either. It wasn't the better option. 

He wasn't about to find the answers for  _ that _ in the datafiles he'd been given, but he could at least work out what kind of people the rest of them were. 

The Spectre cell seemed to have started off pretty small in scale. Reports that had been put down to normal criminal activity - stolen supplies mostly - had been later cross-referenced and linked back to the rebels after their existence had come to Imperial attention. The first real confirmation of them as an organised group had been a little over a year ago when they organised a prison-break on Kessell and their ship as well as their personal descriptions matched with a recent theft of blasters and rations on Lothal. Luke paused and went back through the report. He knew what Kessell was. Spice was as good as hard currency on Tatooine. 

There weren't any details about the crimes those liberated Wookies were guilty of. Given that some of their ages were the equivalent of human children, Luke doubted it could be anything severe enough to merit lifetime imprisonment doing hard labour in a Kessell spice-mine. 

Freeing slaves was a pretty noble goal, and one Luke could get behind. It was more than the Empire was bothering to do, than anyone in the former Republic had bothered to do. After that one strike though it looked like Spectre had returned to Lothal and they didn’t seem to have tried anything like that again. In fact the very next incident that could be firmly traced to them was the sale of four crates of stolen blaster rifles to the Broken Horn criminal syndicate. The other three crates had been used to set an explosion to cover their escape from the scene of the deal, killing six stormtroopers and the pilot of a walker. How could they justify something like that to themselves? How many innocent lives had been ruined by the activities of the Broken Horn? Giving them weapons wasn’t even going to hurt the Empire - gangs like that far preferred to prey on the defenceless. 

That wasn’t their only recorded involvement with the Broken Horn either, and it seemed like half the time Spectre showed up in the files it was because they’d hit the Imperial supply chain. Sure everyone needed to eat, but where were all the blasters and explosives and stuff like that going if not onto the black market? They couldn’t be using  _ all _ of that themselves. What were they hoping to achieve, Luke wondered? If they hoped to bleed the Imperial coffers dry they weren’t going to manage it that way, and all they were really doing was inconveniencing the local quartermaster by forcing them to double-order everything. 

That and slowly murdering the local garrison, one or two at a time. 

What else had they been up to? Luke continued to flick through the datafiles, sure that this group must have done a bit more than the petty theft and murder he was seeing. 

Okay, it looked like the files were grouped by the type of activity. That’s why he was only seeing typical criminality. He scrolled down to the next section, where the theft of military equipment looked to get a bit more serious. Apparently at one time they’d stolen an entire TIE fighter. That was a  _ bit  _ more impressive, although Luke was pretty sure there were about fifty of those on every Star Destroyer. It wasn’t big picture stuff. 

Luke frowned and stopped skimming.  _ This _ was though. Whatever they’d hit and destroyed in this attack was so classified that even  _ his  _ clearance level wasn’t enough to see what it had been. A major component for Project Stardust. He’d never heard of it. That was some real, genuine sabotage. The padawan, Ezra, had even gone undercover in an Imperial Academy to steal ISB codes in order to find the location for the ship transporting it. 

It was hard to decide how Luke felt about that when he didn’t know what the project was. The Imperial military did an important job keeping peace and order across the galaxy, fighting smugglers and pirates, cracking down on the slave rings that the Empire actually did care about; the human-enslaving ones. For all he knew Project Stardust was just some new model of Star Destroyer. 

Unsettled, Luke kept looking. Each of the members of the cell had several charges of sedition and treason against their names, as well as aiding and abetting local treasonous elements. They’d blown up a troop transport in order to break out a couple of prisoners who had just been arrested for sedition themselves, they’d sent out a Holonet broadcast advocating resistance against the Empire which looked to be the first actual  _ peaceful  _ protest they’d done, and oh, after  _ bombing the Empire day parade,  _ they smuggled a spy off-planet who had stolen a considerable amount of military intelligence. They bombed a parade? How many people had died... there was a casualty report attached. Luke opened it after a moment’s hesitation. 

Relief washed over him. It had only been a small explosion. A few concussions, several broken ribs and burst eardrums, and an expensive new TIE-Advance prototype destroyed, but nobody had been killed. That made him feel a little bit better about these guys.

It was a prettier picture than some of the other casualty reports associated with the Spectre cell anyway. At least those were soldiers though, rather than civilians attending a parade. The rebels didn’t go out of their way to kill, but they didn’t flinch from it either. Luke would have understood it if only it had been for something that mattered more. What had these rebels actually achieved over the last year? They were basically just an annoyance, except for whatever that had been with Project Stardust. Dune-flies buzzing around a bantha. 

Luke sighed and put the datapad down. He still had their background files to go through. Maybe that would help him understand their choices. 

\----

Luke was back at the files the next day. The parts of the picture that made up these rebels were starting to unfold. He could start to trace the paths that had led them to where they were now. 

Hera Syndulla, the twi’lek pilot and, analysis suggested, leader of the team, came from a lineage of insurgents. Her father, Cham Syndulla, had been branded a terrorist or freedom fighter depending on who you asked. Ryloth’s Senator, Orn Free Taa, certainly said the former. Cham had started out as a political revolutionary before the Clone Wars, fought against the Seperatist invasion of the planet during that conflict, and carried straight on fighting after it was over. Luke didn’t know much about Ryloth - the planet hadn’t been a priority in his lessons. There was more context in the files though, and Luke could read through the lines. Ryloth produced two things; spice and slaves, and the Empire was either involved in that or was turning a blind eye. Hera must have grown up seeing what was being done to her people and blaming the Empire for not stepping in to help. How could she have failed to follow in her father’s footsteps?

Bridger’s parents had fought the Empire too, with words.  _ They _ had advocated peacefully for change. They’d been rewarded with charges for spreading treason and sedition and an indefinite prison sentence, leaving their son to fend for himself in the streets of Lothal. In fact… Luke had read further in that file and discovered the pair had recently staged a break-out and been killed in the attempt. A number of other prisoners had managed to escape as a result of their sacrifice, but the effort to recapture them was already underway.

Garrazeb’s people had risen up against the Empire in armed, open rebellion. In response the Empire had slaughtered them. Luke could see the ruthless chain of logic that led there - it was the same one that ran through the philosophy of the Sith and the Inquisitorius. Show your strength, inexorable and overpowering, so that others saw the wisdom of kneeling before you. It didn’t mean he agreed with it, not when it went this far. No wonder Garrazeb wanted revenge, wanted blood repaid with blood. No, Luke realised, it was even more personal than that. ISB Agent Alexsandr Kallus had earned a silent commendation for his part in the Siege of Lasan even as the Senate condemned it as a war crime. 

Anger stirred deep in his heart. The Dark Side responded, purring, sliding inside his skin and promising vengeance.  _ He  _ wasn’t the one that needed vengeance. The rebels did. That’s why they were doing this in the first place.  _ They  _ couldn’t try and change things from the inside. They either weren't human, or in Ezra’s case, powerless until he’d discovered his ability to use the Force. All they had was violence. Peaceful protest certainly hadn’t worked - just look at what had happened to Bridger’s parents. 

It was all just so… ineffective. So pointless, against the might and reach of the Empire. 

The only one that might have been able to follow the path Luke was taking was Sabine Wren. The files said she was from a prominent Mandalorian clan, and had attended the Imperial Academy on Mandalore. Her class reports and assessments from her time there were part of the dossier and it was obvious just how skilled she was. Her modifications to weapons systems as well as some brand new designs had apparently caused a furore of excitement amongst her tutors and had won her a glowing recommendation to the Corps of Engineers training programme at Fondor Shipyards. Luke couldn’t see from this just why she had thrown all of that in to run away and join a group of insurgents. 

Could she have done more good staying where she was, rising up through the ranks as quickly as her obvious potential would’ve let her? Even if all she wanted was to sabotage one of the Empire’s many weapons programmes…? Luke could think of a dozen different ways of hurting the Empire she might have had if she’d gone to Fondor. She was too smart not to have thought of that. There must have been something else. Some reason she couldn’t stand to do it. 

Leia might know, or if not, she might be able to ask. Luke found he had a sudden deep desire to know, because Sabine’s choice just didn’t make sense to him. 

In some ways though understanding the Spectre cell wasn’t telling Luke anything he didn’t already know. The Empire was hurting a lot of people, as much as it helped others. Yes, it wasn’t enough to say that maybe it was helping more people than the Republic had, or hurting fewer. It was still causing far too much pain and suffering for people to just throw up their hands and trying to say this was as good as things were ever going to get. 

It was only that this seemed like struggling for the sake of struggling. Maybe sometimes that was needed though. Maybe sometimes there was no choice but to protest, even if it didn’t do anything. 

This wasn’t getting them closer to tracking the cell down.

\----

Cal and Luke met up again after those first few days pouring through the various files without any real leads to show for it, not that either of them had really been expecting that. What they  _ did _ have was a list of names, people on Lothal and nearby planets who were suspected of associating with the rebels. Agent Kallus and the local garrison had already spent some time interrogating these individuals, but they lacked certain advantages that Inquisitors possessed. 

So that was what Luke and Cal had moved onto doing now. Travelling around Lothal, asking questions, using Third Brother’s psychometry and Luke’s ability to gently probe their minds without causing any damage. Aside from confirmation of some of the details of the rebels’ actions and that they didn’t appear to have made contact with anyone locally since leaving for Mustafar, that hadn’t gotten them any further. 

Luke really needed to talk to Leia. 

Surely he ought to be able to make the dreams happen. The connection had been there for years now. Why should this be up to the whims of the Force when everything about Dark Side philosophy called for its wielders to impose  _ their  _ will. 

That night, Luke settled into meditation with that specific goal in mind. Leia was out there somewhere, star systems away from him, but that had never stopped the dreams before. There was a connection between them - he might not know where it came from but he knew it was there. He should be able to find it, follow it, reach out for Leia and draw them together. 

He had used the Force to reach others before. On Arkanis he had expanded his awareness out across half the planet, though that had been in the grip of the hungry Dark, formless and undisciplined. Unknowing, he’d woven a network between his mind and the hundreds of others that lived within the bounds of the Imperial base. Luke hadn’t even tried to look for that web since leaving the planet, and he didn’t know if it was still there or whether time and distance had broken it, but… he had been able to see those connections in his mind and use them to affect the minds of others. Wasn’t his link to Leia something like that?

First he had to find his end of it. Luke felt a moment of trepidation, but pushed it away. The problem before had been that he lacked a goal. That was why he had almost lost himself in the Force. He had a goal now. It wouldn’t happen again. He turned his attention inwards, focusing, looking for some part of him that was outside of himself, or a touch that wasn’t him. 

Nothing jumped out at him at first but the longer Luke looked the more he started to see. Tenuous little fragments, broken and tattered ends where many of those connections from Arkanis had once sat. Others were still there, thicker or thinner. He recognised the one that led to Ninth Sister, and he thought another might be reaching out to Banee. Remembering the shared dream with Third Brother he tried to find anything that felt at all like Cal’s Force presence, but there didn’t seem to be anything there. That was probably a good thing. Luke had gotten a lot better at shielding himself compared to five years ago. He probably couldn’t make these kinds of connections again without conscious effort. 

So why did he have a connection with Leia? 

Never mind that, where  _ was  _ the connection? Surely it existed. It wasn’t just some mysterious action of the Force bringing them together. 

Luke dropped deeper in. He thought about what Leia felt like in those dreams, strength and calm lying over a durasteel soul, determination, anger always so carefully controlled. The prickling un-heat of the Light. In the end he found he wasn’t surprised when she was nestled close to the heart of him, wound tightly alongside. They were embedded deep in each other, which made sense given how often they’d visited each other in sleep. 

Luke plucked the link and it vibrated outwards. On the other end someone jerked to attention. 

_ Leia,  _ he said.  _ Leia, it’s me, Luke. _

_ Luke? How… Are you alright? Are you safe?  _ He felt her worry and concern echo down the bond, and did his best to push reassurance back. 

_ I’m fine _ , he said. 

_ We aren’t asleep, _ Leia said. She was exploring the connection mentally, feeling it out on her end.  _ This bond… I think I understand. _

Perhaps she’d experienced something like this before. She’d certainly shown on board  _ Sovereign  _ that she was adept at influencing the minds of others. 

_ I have a lot of things to tell you,  _ Leia continued.

_ Really?  _ Luke said. _ I expected it was going to be the other way around _ .  _ I was trying to reach you because we need to talk.  _ He let the sense of her presence wash over him, reaching deeper. He could feel the shape of her mind, her soul. The bond between them was silver and durasteel, a cord strung across the stars. Yet at the same time it was no distance at all. He followed it, hand over hand, climbing or descending or...

The connection expanded between them like opening eyes after a deep sleep. Luke fell forwards onto soft ground. The sound of water and wind, the scent of green growing things, the dew-damp touch of the grass, all filled his senses. Another person was breathing next to him - he sat up and saw Leia still a shape of red and white flowers but strangely doubled. Her real self was just visible underneath. Was that because they'd met in person? Or because they were doing this while awake?

"Luke." Leia grabbed his hand, giving him a worried look. "Are you alright? It's been so long I thought perhaps you were being kept on Mustafar. Punished for not capturing Kanan again."

"No, I'm fine," Luke assured her. "I've been on Lothal actually. I don't know why we haven't been sharing dreams, but I don't sense a Dark Side nexus on this planet like there is on Mustafar."

"Lothal... Ezra's home?" Leia sat back a little, but she was still holding his hand. Luke felt a warmth growing inside him. He could tell himself she didn't hate him, but the doubt had still been there. This helped. "They've sent you after Spectre?"

Luke nodded. "Me and Third Brother - Cal. Don't worry just yet - we haven't been able to find any leads, though it's been... interesting reading the files on your new friends."

Leia was quiet for a moment. "Don't worry about hunting us," she said then. "I know you have to do it. I'm just worried about what might happen if you  _ find  _ us." All the potential consequences on both sides sat heavy in the air between them. "Luke... I can't hurt you."

"I don't want to hurt you either, but the universe doesn’t care about what either of us want,” Luke said, knowing he had to make sure she understood this. “Don’t sacrifice yourself for me. We both have to do what we need to.” For a moment he saw it in his mind, Leia overlayed onto Zar, the Force whirling with that same sacrificial power. A flash of fear caught in his throat. He didn’t want that for her. He didn’t want to kill her. He didn’t want her to become an Inquisitor either, but if it was a choice between that and death, he would take it. He would capture her. Of course after that her choices would be her own. 

There was always a choice. 

Leia shook her head fiercely. "I'm sorry Luke, you're asking the impossible. Even before I found out..." She paused, seeming to rethink what she'd been going to say. 

"Found out what?" Luke prompted her. 

Leia sighed. "After the rescue mission, I found out that my teachers had been lying to me about something. It was a lie of omission, but it was something they really ought to have told me a long time ago."

Luke found he wasn't exactly surprised by this, although it was a little disappointing to find out that Imperial propaganda had been right about the untrustworthy nature of Jedi. Leia wasn’t like that though. Any corruption in the teachings of the Light hadn’t touched her yet. 

"I'd been lying to them as well," Leia admitted. "About you, about the dreams I was having. You know that already; that I didn't think Obi-wan would react well. I keep telling myself they've got just as much a right to be angry at me as I am at them, but it feels different."

Luke winced slightly. He'd known Leia would have to say something after Ezra saw their interactions, but... "How  _ did  _ he react?" he asked. 

Leia looked at the ground, frustration in the set of her jaw and the tense lines of her body. "He didn't understand. He thinks you're trying to manipulate me, that you're just as evil as every Dark Sider has to be. He thinks you want to use us all in your plot to kill the Emperor."

"I wouldn't  _ mind  _ the help," Luke said with a grin, trying to lighten the mood a little. Leia did give a small laugh, almost despite herself. 

"I think I understand at least one of the reasons he's so dogmatic," Leia said. "I'm getting out of order though. One thing at a time."

"You wanted me to know they lied to you," Luke said. "That'd be Kenobi and... Ahsoka Tano, right?"

Leia flinched slightly and then said, "No, of course they'd know her name. Sorry Luke, I'm just so used to having to hide these things from the Empire. Yes, both of them had kept this secret, and Re... my bodyguard as well."

Bodyguard... There'd been one person on the ISD- _ Sovereign  _ who wasn't mentioned in any of the Spectre files. "The clone, right?" 

Another startled look from Leia. "Yes. You've seen clones before?"

"All the Purge Troopers are clones." When the name only got a confused frown from her, he added, "The Purge Troopers are stormtroopers assigned specifically to the Inquisitorius. Some of the other Inquisitors take groups of them on missions, but we - Cal and I - never needed to."

"I don't think anyone else knows about that," Leia said. "They're Clone Wars veterans?"

Luke shrugged. "I suppose they must be. None of them look young."

"I wonder if any of them are people he used to know." 

Luke hadn't thought very much about that one clone, but of course he had to be a deserter, probably one from just after the Empire became the Empire. One of the troopers  _ might  _ know him - it was another angle of investigation for his and Cal's mission. One he would hold off on pursuing unless they really had to, of course. He wasn't trying to be  _ too  _ successful here. 

"So what was this big secret then?" he asked. 

"I've told you before that I'm adopted."

Luke nodded. "It's about your parents?"

"That's part of it," Leia said, with a rueful smile. "I have a brother. A twin. We were separated at birth, adopted by different families."

A faint shock went through him. Not just through Luke, but through the Force as well, he realised. A signal to pay attention. 

“My brother was sent to family on Tatooine,” Leia said softly, “where Obi-wan Kenobi watched over him until the day he was found by Inquisitors and stolen away.”

Realisation hid like a speeder. “ _ I’m  _ your brother?” Luke was glad he was already sitting down. It sounded too coincidental to be true, but at the same time it made sense. It felt right. The Force was singing to him that this was real, that Leia had been his sister all this time. 

“Obi-wan and Ahsoka looked for you for years, but they could never find where the Inquisitorius took you. They didn’t tell me anything about you, not even that you existed.”

“Why?” Luke asked. “Why even separate us to begin with?”

“That’s the other secret,” Leia said, the faint lines of a scowl furrowing her brow. “About our parents.”

Luke had been feeling more astonished than confused, but now he frowned. “My - our - father wasn’t anything special,” he said, though he realised as he did so that it couldn’t be true. “Uncle Owen told me he was a navigator on a spice freighter.”

Now it was Leia’s turn to look confused. “He told you our father was a criminal?” 

Luke shrugged. “That’s not exactly out of the ordinary on Tatooine. I guess that was just another lie though. He must not have wanted me asking too many questions about what happened to him. I always assumed he got caught in the crossfire of a deal gone bad.”

“What did they say about our mother?”

“They… didn’t say much about her at all. Owen and Beru only met her once, when dad was visiting, after our grandmother died. They said she seemed nice, but they barely got to know anything about her. Obviously I wondered, but… I never actually thought there would be a way of finding out.” Luke didn’t know what he was feeling right now. Shock, obviously, but also a kind of wild hope. Memories from back on Tatooine were hazy but he remembered looking up at the stars and aching to know more about his parents, all the details his Aunt and Uncle didn’t know. Try as the Inquisitorius might to make him forget where he’d come from, he refused to let them. He refused to let his past die. 

“Our mother’s name was Padmé Amidala,” Leia said, “and our father’s name was Anakin Skywalker.” She spoke softly, with a kind of reverence. Luke repeated the names softly to himself. The Force was still crooning in the back of his mind, assuring him that all of this was true, real. It was a sense of belonging. Leia was still looking at him with a kind of expectation though, as if she thought the names were ones he should recognise.

“I knew our father’s name already,” Luke told her. “Before the Inquisitorius, I was Luke Skywalker.”

Leia blinked, taken aback. “If you’d told me  _ that _ before, this might have gone a bit differently,” she said. 

“Why? What’s so special about that name?”

“Don’t you know?” Leia asked. “He was a hero of the Clone Wars. A Jedi Knight.”

“Shavit,” Luke said without thinking. It was instinctive wariness of the Jedi, a sudden thought of ‘ _ if he knew what I was…’ _ along with the sudden, sickening knowledge of exactly how he must have died. Then another problem with that statement occurred to him. “Wait. I thought Jedi weren’t allowed to have kids?”

Leia sighed. “They weren’t allowed to have attachments which… is not quite the same thing. Even so, our parents got married in secret.”

“So Padmé… she was a Jedi as well?”

“You really haven’t heard of Padmé Amidala?” Leia asked, sounding almost affronted. Luke shook his head. It didn’t even sound familiar. Leia sighed. “She was famous! She was elected the Queen of Naboo at the age of 14, united the humans and gungans to fight off an invasion from the Trade Federation, then became the Senator representing the Chommell sector once her term as Queen was over.” 

“Our mother was a  _ Queen _ ?” An elected one, which wasn’t the most common arrangement. Luke tried to think if he’d been taught about the political practices of Naboo specifically - if so then it hadn’t stuck. The only important thing he remembered about Naboo was that the Emperor had been born there. Fourteen seemed a young age to be in charge of a planet, though it was only a year younger than he and Leia were. “Should I be calling you Princess Leia then?” he asked, grinning. “Am I Prince Luke?”

“Well…” Leia flushed slightly. “My adopted mother is also a Queen, so…”

Luke did laugh then, at the strangeness of it all. He put one hand over his heart and bowed - a bit awkward while sitting. “Princess Sister, I am honoured by your presence.”

Leia grinned and shoved him. “Stop that. I’m trying to have a serious conversation with you here.” 

Luke smiled back. Something warm and fond flooded through him. She was his  _ sister _ . Not just his friend, but  _ family _ . It had been a long time since he’d been able to think about family with anything but grief.

Leia straightened up again, letting the absurd humour of the moment drain away. “Our parents loved each other very much,” she said. “Everyone tells me that. It wasn’t enough to save them.” 

Luke felt vaguely ashamed of his own laughter. He had accepted that his parents were dead a long time ago, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t sad and upsetting to hear about it all over again. He supposed he didn’t actually know for sure that Anakin had died during the Purge. Some Jedi had escaped, and lived hidden away until Vader and the Inquisitors hunted them down. 

“What happened?” he asked. 

“The end of the war happened,” Leia said. “The Empire happened. Padme died giving birth to us…”

“How could that be possible?” Luke objected. “Wouldn’t a Senator have access to the best med-droids, the best care?”

“She wasn’t in the Core at the time. She was with Obi-wan, and with my adopted father, somewhere in the Outer Rim. Even then, there seem to have been strange circumstances. Possibly something to do with the Dark Side. Obi-wan wasn’t sure.”

“Obi-wan was the one who decided to separate us,” Luke said, suddenly certain of it. 

“If my father hadn’t been there, he might have taken us both to Tatooine,” Leia said. “Or he might have had some other plan. Or maybe no-one was thinking that hard about it at the time. I think… I think some of our relatives on our mother’s side might still be alive. There’s no way they know about us, but…”

“Are you going to try and find them?”

“You don’t want to?”

Luke shrugged. “Our lives before becoming Inquisitors aren't supposed to matter. Besides, I think knowing me would just be putting them in danger.”

“I could say the same.” Leia sighed. “So… now you know who our parents were. That’s half of the secret. The other half is that Anakin Skywalker is still alive.”

Luke paused. Said carefully, “And Obi-wan took us away from him anyway? Or did he think…”

Leia’s expression was a mixture of anger, frustration, and pity. “No. He knew, he just… Anakin Skywalker fell to the Dark Side. You know him, actually. His name became Darth Vader.”

Luke’s brain, already whirling from all the new information that had been dropped on him, short-circuited completely. He lost hold of the Force-connection that was tying them together and found himself blinking at the floor of his room in the government building on Lothal. 

Darth Vader? Was his father? 

What?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A note/political disclaimer that Luke's perspective in this chapter is one that _has_ been influenced by Imperial propaganda, and his beliefs about fighting the system from within being more efficient are not ones that would necessarily be 'correct' in real life situations. The "great man" theory of one person solves all problems is one that works in fiction, not reality. Collectivist action is important, not waiting for a saviour or throwing all support behind a single person who could be that saviour. 
> 
> I like writing the Empire, but I don't want people to make incorrect assumptions about my real life politics, basically.


	25. Chapter 25

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Imperial Luke does questionable things.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I continue to appreciate all your wonderful comments! Thank you!

**4 BBY - Lothal, Lothal system, Lothal sector, Outer Rim Territories**

Luke was still trying to get his head around everything the next day. It was hard to figure out how he felt about it. Not about Leia being his sister - he was very happy about  _ that _ . Not about hearing more about his mother. It was… the other thing. 

Darth Vader was his father. He kept thinking it over and over to himself, trying to get it to make sense. The Dark Side didn’t have any trouble with it. It was purring all around him, the protective aspect of it to the fore, whispering a sense of belonging and kinship and pack. It seemed like it ought to be obvious to anyone who could feel the Force, but Cal hadn’t looked at him any differently when they met up that morning. 

Darth Vader. The Sith Apprentice. He’d been a Jedi once. It wasn’t just Cal and Ninth Sister and maybe some of the others who had turned from the Order towards the Dark, but one of the Sith themselves. Did that mean something? Did Vader still think about the Jedi? Did he look back to the life he had before? Or had he followed the creed of rebirth to the full, as they were all supposed to do? 

Luke was absolutely sure that Vader didn’t know the two of them were related. He didn’t even know Luke’s real name, much less that he’d grown up in the care of Anakin Skywalker’s step-brother. All of that was forbidden to speak of, to think of. Would it even matter then if he  _ did _ know? If ‘Anakin Skywalker’ was as dead as ‘Luke Skywalker’ was meant to be, then why would they mean anything to each other? 

During his training, Ninth Sister had never said anything about Inquisitors or Sith being forbidden from having a family  _ after _ they joined, but probably that counted in exactly the same way as having friends, as an avenue of weakness. Attachments were liabilities, that’s what she’d said to Cal, unless you were strong enough to protect them. 

Darth Vader was strong enough. If he wanted… 

What did he believe had happened to his children? Did he even know how his wife had died? Exactly how close had Obi-wan Kenobi come to kidnapping, to theft? The thought wasn’t a pleasant one. Uncle Owen said his father had been a slave and slaves didn’t get to have families either, always living in fear that they would be sold away from each other...

That thought ran right into the reality of Darth Vader and stopped. Vader did not seem like someone who had once been a slave. He was too… uncaring. Hadn’t Luke wondered about this before, when the Sith reacted in such an extreme way to Luke pointing out his own enslavement as an Inquisitor? All the same problems popped into his mind now. Vader wasn’t doing anything about the slaves the Empire owned, or the slave trade it allowed to happen throughout its territory. He couldn’t even recognise the Inquisitorius and Project Harvester for what they were - couldn’t or  _ wouldn't _ . How did that fit with Anakin Skywalker? 

Or perhaps that had been another lie. A cold, unpleasant feeling wormed its way inside him. It would be an awful lie to tell, but… 

No. He shook away the doubt. His name, his father’s name, was Skywalker. That was a slave name. There  _ had _ been a human slave named Anakin Skywalker who won the Boonta Eve Classic at Mos Espa, thirteen years before the founding of the Empire - Luke had found the records on the Tatooine Local Holonet at the Anchorhead library once. That person and the Jedi Knight  _ had _ to be one and the same. Outside of Tatooine or Hutt Space, the surname wasn’t a common one. 

So what did that mean for Darth Vader? Perhaps only that his erasure of the old self and commitment to the new was so strong, even his personal experience with slavery meant nothing to him anymore. That didn’t feel like the right answer though. 

“Fifteenth Brother.” Third Brother’s calm voice cut through his jumbled thoughts. Luke’s gaze snapped into focus and he remembered that they were heading towards the government offices this morning. Agent Kallus had requested their presence. 

“What is it?” Cal asked. “You seem distracted. Do you sense something?”

“It’s nothing,” Luke said, forcing a smile. The Dark Side was no different now than it had been at any point this week, not even reacting to the turmoil inside of him. It was as if it was being… patient with him. 

Third Brother nodded. They entered the turbolift and it rushed them upwards to the top levels where the meeting was supposed to take place. Agent Kallus was waiting for them in the corridor. As they approached he said, “Excellent. You’re right on time.”

Curious and wary, Luke reached out to skim along the up-most layer of his thoughts. He had some rudimentary shielding, which was interesting. Was that something all ISB agents were taught, or did Kallus have some other reason to have it? Either way it didn’t keep Luke from seeing what he wanted to. Kallus was uncertain about them. He didn’t particularly like or trust them, but he respected and feared their abilities in equal measure. Inquisitors did not fit properly into his orderly view of the world, both because of their connection to the Force, and their lack of clear standing in the Imperial hierarchy. Uncertainty left him off balance. He wasn’t sure if he should be giving orders to Third Brother or the other way around. 

“What exactly did you need us for again?” Cal asked. 

“Governor Tarkin has some  _ concerns  _ about Minister Tua,” Kallus replied, turning and starting to walk with the clear expectation of being followed. “She has proven herself to be a competent administrator in the past, but now she is unable to carry out Tarkin’s clear instructions effectively? In my experience,  _ that _ is a clear sign she is wavering in her commitment to the Empire and to the rule of law and order.”

“What exactly is she failing to do?” Luke asked, keeping his voice calm and emotionless. He could already guess; he had written more than one essay in his classes on the subject of the Tarkin Doctrine and its implementation.

Kallus was briefly startled, and Luke realised this was the first time he’d actually spoken to him. He caught the flash of thought - a junior officer or cadet wouldn’t dare join a conversation between their seniors without a very good reason. Kallus glanced at Cal to gauge his reaction and seeing a lack of it, started to recategorise Luke in his mind. “Since the Rebel terrorists seized the communications tower and used it to broadcast their seditious message across the sector, there has been growing unrest,” he said. “Minister Tua is meant to be dealing with these traitors. She is failing.” 

“Where do we come in?” Third Brother asked. 

Kallus briefly raised a hand in an impression of someone manipulating the Force. “I understand you have the ability to read minds. Maketh Tua has served the Empire well up until now, and I want to be fair to her. If her faith is only wavering, it would be my duty as a loyalty officer to get her back on the path. If her faith is  _ broken _ however…”

The implication was clear enough. 

“I will guide the conversation,” Kallus continued. “You two need only tell me afterwards what you see.”

He turned towards an office ahead, and its door slid open to reveal a woman bent over her desk scowling at a scattering of datapads. Her head jerked up at the noise of the door, her eyes briefly going wide before she forced calm down over her face. Behind the facade, anxiety was clawing away at her - the Dark Side gathered with a familiar, predatory interest. It tugged at Luke whispering  _ she is weak, she is prey _ , but he ignored it with the ease of long practise. Still, it didn’t bode well for her. 

“Agent Kallus,” she said, with a false smile. “I wasn’t expecting you or… who are these two?”

“The new Inquisitors,” Kallus replied. “I’ve come for a status update.”

Whether it was the edge of confident arrogance in his tone or just the question itself, it set off a spark of anger in Minister Tua, and her polite smile crumbled into a glare. The Dark backed off, tendrils of power curling around her in a different way now. “Agent Kallus, I’ve exhausted every resource to find information about the rebels, but there is nothing to be found! I cannot see that  _ you _ have been any more successful. What more does Governor Tarkin expect?”

“He expects Lothal to be punished,” Kallus replied, starting to pace. Luke and Cal took up positions either side of the door. Their presence was putting Tua on edge, keeping the worry eating away despite her anger. “His own Star Destroyer was demolished by those rebels. He takes that somewhat personally.”

“I’ve doubled patrols, set up checkpoints, established curfews,” she said, counting each thing off on her fingers. “I honestly don’t know what else  _ to _ do.”

“Really? You don’t consider Tarkin’s other instructions sufficient guidance?” 

Tua swallowed. Luke saw guilt rise to the forefront of her mind, swiftly followed by a cold horror. She wasn’t thinking about the specifics of those instructions, in fact she was actively suppressing them. “They are… rather harsh.”

“These people are criminals, Minister. Sedition is unlawful. Making a few arrests, a few  _ examples _ , is hardly harsh. Rather, it would be harsh to let this unrest go unchecked, to allow other citizens to be taken in by these treasonous ideas until the situation requires an even more extreme response.”

“The evidence…” she started to protest.

“If the evidence isn’t there at the start, it will be by the time they come to trial,” Kallus said. “That is what the ISB is for.”

Minister Tua said nothing. 

“If you find yourself unable to rise to the task, you can explain your reasoning to Governor Tarkin,” Kallus said. “You have until the end of the week.” 

Luke felt the moment she made the decision. She had reached a line she would not step over, and determination solidified inside her. It wasn’t alone - there was fear as well, and desperation that skirted close to despair. Still, there was something clean about her grief for the life she now intended to leave behind. 

Kallus nodded, and swept out of her office. Luke and Cal followed on close behind. 

“Well?” he asked. 

“She’s a traitor,” Third Brother told him. 

“A pity,” Kallus said, with a small shrug. “She will be executed of course, but I wonder if we can make some use out of her before then. Did you sense her intentions? She knows she is on a time limit now.”

Luke knew. He hesitated about admitting it, but although he appreciated Maketh Tua trying to take a stand against the heavy hand of the Empire up, she knew she couldn’t keep on doing it without Governor Tarkin replacing her. Her plan now was to run. That wouldn’t help the citizens she was leaving behind, but perhaps her martyrdom would. 

“She intends to try and make contact with the rebel cell,” he said. “She wants to defect.”

A slow smile spread over Kallus’ face. “Does she? I believe this is an opportunity.”

\----

Luke crouched on top of the roof looking out over the spaceport. The end of the week had arrived and with it the final opportunity for Minister Tua to make her escape from Lothal before she faced Tarkin’s wrath. There had been no attempt to carry out any of the policies the Governor was demanding from her, which Luke was sure would have given her away even if he and Cal hadn’t been around to see her intentions. Agent Kallus hadn’t managed to intercept any transmissions from her in the last few days, but her determination hadn’t wavered. There was an inner confidence to her as today approached that meant she still expected to escape. 

“Do you sense that?” Third Brother asked next to him. “The rebels are close.”

Luke nodded. He could feel it too; little bursts of determination and apprehension in the Dark congregating around the hanger bay. 

Cal scanned the streets and the other nearby buildings with a pair of electrobinoculars, Beedee also hooked into the feed to help enhance and analyse it. “There,” he murmured, and handed them to Luke, pointing. Luke looked towards the rooftop on the other side of the hanger. A group of six or seven people were gathered up there, crouched low and with their attention on the street. 

“None of them are from the Spectre cell,” Luke said. Whoever Minister Tua had managed to make contact with it wasn’t them - or they were too wary of a trap to come and collect her themselves. Spectre had been able to call on support from whatever rebel cell Kenobi belonged to before, it only made sense that they were in communication with others as well. 

“Here she comes,” Cal said. Agent Kallus was driving the speeder as they’d planned. As they came to a stop and climbed out, Kallus exchanged inaudible conversation with the small squad of stormtroopers guarding the door. Their number was low intentionally, to lure the rebels in. They weren’t the teeth of this trap. Luke and Cal were. 

As they watched, another figure making its careful way around the wall encircling the landing pad dropped down behind Kallus and Tua and pulled a blaster on them. The other rebels started to move as well, making for the shuttle. Obviously they intended to steal it. Luke started to rise but Cal put out a hand to stop him. 

“Just a little longer,” he said. 

Kallus and Tua had darted away from the insurgent towards the inside of the hanger, the stormtroopers flanking them. One of the troopers didn’t feel like the rest, twanging oddly in the Force. That meant it didn’t entirely come as a surprise when he slammed the blast doors down and shot the lock, cutting the rest of the squad off. 

“Now,” Cal said. 

As Agent Kallus took cover from the one-sided firefight, dodging blaster bolts and leaning out from behind a pile of crates to return fire, Tua showed her true colours, running to the rebels instead. They exchanged brief words, then headed towards the shuttle together. Luke leapt from the rooftop to the top of the hanger in one huge, Force-assisted bound, then followed Cal down to the ground, landing lightly and igniting his lightsaber on the way. Shouts of fear from the rebels proved their flashy entrance had gotten the expected response. 

Luke wasn’t enthusiastic about this. This wasn’t what Inquisitors were meant for, and it wasn't a fair fight when the Force gave them so many advantages. These rebels might be associates of Spectre's or they might be from a different cell completely, but he didn't know their methods or their motivations. He didn't know if they were fighting for a better Empire, or for chaos and criminal gain. All he had to operate on was their actions in the moment which wasn't at all helpful. 

He didn’t know if Third Brother had the same doubts. 

It didn't matter. They were on opposite sides. They wouldn't hesitate to kill  _ him _ , and the situation didn't give him a better choice. 

The insurgents turned their blasters in their direction but Luke batted the blasts back easily. In almost the same moment an explosion rocked the landing platform. Minister Tua had reached the shuttle then. Luke would have thought it better to capture her if the Empire really wanted to make an example out of her, but Agent Kallus had insisted. He let the blast wash over him and then darted forwards before the rebels could even start to think about getting away. 

The smell of a lightsaber carving through flesh was just as terrible now as it had been on Arkanis. The Dark Side surged around him like a strong wind as he cut through the small strike team. Their weapons were useless against him. Each flickering life joined the Force at the moment of its death in a bright burst of pain and fear and sometimes their own determined rage, and the Dark fed deeply on each emotion. It was in a frenzy of aggression and ravenous hunger, wild with predatory joy. It tugged at his own emotions trying to pull him in, and it would have been so easy to lose himself to that, but Luke wouldn't. It would have felt better than this faintly queasy guilt but he  _ wanted _ the guilt. It was more honest. He wasn't the predator the Dark wanted him to be - not now, not against  _ these _ people. There might be a time when he was fully justified in feeling all of that, but it wasn't this moment.

The rebels tried to flee, but there was no escape. Before long, all of them were dead or too injured to run. 

Agent Kallus walked over. There was an edge of cruelty in his eyes and a small smile on his lips. As the stormtroopers outside finally got the doors open and rushed in he turned to them and announced, “These terrorists have assassinated Minister Tua! Take them into custody. We  _ will  _ get answers as to how this happened.”

The rebels were dragged or carried away, some moaning in pain, others with jaws clenched tight in anger. Kallus turned back to Luke and Cal. 

“Thank you for your assistance,” he said. “The ones that survived should give us answers about ongoing rebel activities in this sector.”

“The ISB has failed that task in the past,” Third Brother said, voice cold. Kallus bristled slightly, but he was too wary of them both to try and protest. 

“I imagine they will not be as strong-willed as a Jedi,” he said instead.

“What will you do with them once you’re done?” Luke asked. His heart beat hard in his chest and he could tell himself it was adrenaline from the fight, but that wasn’t the truth. 

“It’s been a while since Lothal had a public execution of traitors,” Kallus replied. “I’m sure Governor Tarkin would agree.”

Torture first, and then death. Luke couldn’t do anything about the second half of that, but perhaps he could about the first. “Our methods of extracting information are more efficient, Agent Kallus,” he said. That was true, but more importantly when done by someone who cared enough to be careful it was also a lot less painful. “Every day’s delay is a chance for the rebels to escape our grasp.  _ I  _ will handle the interrogation.”

Kallus looked to Cal, obviously checking to see if he approved of this - or perhaps to check if Luke had the authority to do this. Cal said nothing. After a moment, Kallus nodded. 

“Of course, Inquisitor.”

\----

Watching Fifteenth Brother work was quietly terrifying. Third Brother didn’t know that much about using the Force for mental manipulation. His talent in psychometry was very different. As a padawan he had learned the basics of the Jedi mind-trick, and when he was being tortured on Nur other Inquisitors had used that sort of skill as another way to cause pain. The subtleties of it escaped him, but even so he knew that what Fifteenth Brother was doing wasn’t  _ easy _ . It  _ really _ wasn’t easy to do it while being so careful not to cause any damage. 

Third Brother didn’t understand Fifteenth Brother any more now than the first time he’d met him. It was impossible to get the slightest sense of his thoughts beneath his impenetrable mental shielding, and his actions were all over the place. On one hand he encouraged Third to spare escaped slaves, and stood up to the rest of the Inquisitorius to try and protect the Purge Troopers, never mind that it hadn’t been very well thought out. On the other he had no problem training with Vader, or killing rebels, or breaking into their heads to drag out information on their targets. 

The worst part of it was how likeable he was. Third Brother kept on having to check himself when he started to think of the boy as someone he could trust. They were Inquisitors. Trust was impossible, the risk was too great, even if Merrin thought otherwise.

Third Brother had some sympathy for these rebels, even if it was his job now to hunt them down. He had fought for the same cause as them once, sort of. The chase after the holocron with Cere and the others hadn’t really been about challenging the Empire but about trying to keep something dangerous out of their hands. It was a poor sort of defiance, and even then it had failed utterly. The Empire couldn’t be fought. It was too strong, too willing to do terrible things to keep power. 

He couldn’t afford to show them mercy, but he wanted to. Did Fifteenth feel the same way? Third hadn’t gotten any sense that he did. How could he sympathise with them after all the propaganda Arkanis must have shoved down his throat? 

In front of him, Fifteenth Brother slipped gently further into the man’s mind. 

“Phoenix Squadron,” Fifteenth said out loud, his head tilting as he focused in on whatever had caught his interest. “Tell me more about that.”

“How… how do you know that name?” the rebel whispered, his fear flooding into the Force. “What are you doing to me?” 

“Commander Sato leads it.” Fifteenth’s eyes were almost glowing gold as he drew deep on the Dark. “And Ahsoka Tano, codename Fulcrum. The Spectre cell is working with them. Where are they? Where is their base?”

The man shook his head, struggling uselessly against his bonds. He was Force-null, he had no training, he had no way at all to resist what was happening. 

Fifteenth Brother dropped his hand and withdrew. He turned to Third. “They’re constantly on the move,” he said. “There’s no base for us to hit, no way to track them down that way.”

“Then there’s no point remaining on Lothal,” Third Brother said, putting his discomfort aside. They had a job to do. “We’ll just have to respond quickly to any sign of this ‘Phoenix Squadron’ and hope we can make it in time to catch them.”

\----

**4 BBY - ISD-** **_Colossus_ ** **, patrolling the Lothal Sector, Outer Rim Territories**

“Agent Kallus, I may have something,” one of the bridge ensigns said, loud enough for Luke to overhear. “A power surge at a decommissioned medical station in sector 11.”

Kallus and the ship’s admiral both turned to take a look at the data, and Luke exchanged a look with Cal. At the man’s words there had been a quiet shudder in the Dark Side, not very strong but more than they’d had to go on before. 

After learning the details about the larger rebel cell known as Phoenix Squadron, some cross-referencing with sector-wide reports had flagged up a recent attack on an Imperial supply convoy which involved a duo of CR90 corvettes and a squadron of A-wing fighters, as well as a freighter which was now tentatively identified as the  _ Ghost _ . It was just further confirmation that the Spectre cell had joined up with another pre-existing rebel cell. The part that was most troubling for the Empire was that it implied some larger conspiracy, an actual organised group of resistance that could be on a scale with one of the criminal syndicates. 

It might even be associated with the syndicates, even the Shadow Collective, if the pattern of criminal behaviour shown by Spectre’s association with the Broken Horn held true. 

At least Cal and Luke weren’t on their own trying to track them down, although Luke might have preferred it if they were. Given the high priority of their mission, Agent Kallus had basically been seconded to work with them, and they had permission from Grand Moff Tarkin to use any of the local Imperial forces they needed if it was in service of the goal of wiping out unrest across this part of space. 

There were too many eyes on them to fail to do their job correctly. 

“It could be anything,” Kallus was saying, dismissive of what was after all not much evidence. “A simple malfunction, or mere scavengers.” 

Luke was happy enough for him to think so, but he wasn’t the only one who had sensed the shiver in the Force. “No,” Cal said, going over to join them at the terminal. “I sense those we seek.”

“One of your disturbances, I assume,” Kallus said, but even if he didn’t like relying on something he couldn’t sense himself, his mind held no doubts about their abilities. “Very well Admiral, set a course for this medical station.”

That was going overboard, and Luke couldn’t help but worry that Leia might be there even though the Force wasn’t giving any sense of that either way. “Your assistance is unnecessary, Agent Kallus,” he said quickly. “We shall handle this ourselves.”

Agent Kallus was understandably taken aback, but Luke didn’t give him a chance to ask questions. He turned on his heel and made for the turbolift that would take him away from the bridge. Third Brother’s eyes narrowed slightly in confusion and suspicion, but he didn’t call Luke back. He followed, and fell into step with him. 

Once they were both in the ‘lift, Cal asked, “Why do you want to go this alone exactly, Fifteenth Brother?”

“There’s no way the rebels have sent more than a small team to that station,” Luke said, trying to project confidence. “The only thing they could be looking for in a decommissioned medical station is medical supplies. The rest of Phoenix Squadron will still be out there, and Agent Kallus should be available to act on any other reports we get.”

Third Brother hummed, not sounding that convinced. “Is there something about him you dislike?” he asked. “This is the second time you’ve stopped him doing his job.”

“He hasn’t been that successful so far.” 

“Neither have we,” Cal said. Then he added quickly, “The Grand Inquisitor, I mean. I know you did your best, and paid the price for it.”

Luke hadn’t done his best over Mustafar at all, but he didn’t let himself react to that. “Kallus will just get in the way,” he said. “Besides, if the rebels see an entire Star Destroyer coming out of hyperspace they’ll make a run for it. We might be able to get there without them noticing.”

Cal nodded. “Very well.  _ Colossus _ has a few of those new TIE Advances - we could take them. They’re shielded and hyperspace capable.”

Luke sighed. “I don’t know how to fly one yet,” he admitted.

Cal paused. “The shuttle it is then. We should probably make sure you get some pilot lessons. Maybe I can go over the basics on the way.”

“Thanks,” Luke said. “I appreciate it.”

\----

**4 BBY - Decommissioned Clone Wars medical station, Deep Space, Lothal Sector, Outer Rim Territories**

Luke knelt down on the decking of the hanger bay and called the Dark Side to him. Seeping his attention out across the breadth of the station, three separate presences lit up in his senses. Two were quiet, subtle spots, not Force sensitive, but the last was bright and glowing with the Light. It was even faintly familiar, although he hadn’t been paying that much attention to the Jedi other than Leia on board  _ Sovereign. _ This wasn’t Leia, and although he was shielded there was a raw, unpolished sense to that aura. The other padawan? Ezra Bridger? 

“They’ve only sent a small group,” he told Third Brother. “Three of them. One is Bridger.”

“Bringing  _ Colossus _ would have been overkill then,” Cal said. He held a hand up to his shoulder. “Beedee, go ahead and scout for us?” 

Beedee chirped, and used the assist to climb down. The little droid stretched out his servos, rocking from foot to foot, then trotted off into the darkness. Cal activated a holo-emitter at his wrist and held it so that Luke could see it too. Beedee obviously had infrared scanning in his optic, and it was easy to follow his progress through the facility. He was mapping as he went too, building up a three-dimensional image that hovered as a background layer behind the brighter feed from his cam. 

“Beedee, head for the control centre first,” Cal said. “We’re right behind you.”

As they started to walk, Luke said, “The plan is capture not kill, right?”

Cal nodded. “Ezra Bridger can lead us to the others. If you can’t drag the answers out of his brain then his friends are bound to try and rescue him. They came for his Master after all.”

Beedee was getting near to the control centre now, and he slowed his pace. The tap-tap of his footsteps echoing off the walls emerged tinny out of the speakers. The corridors were full of boxes and crates or with pieces of metal that had fallen from the ceiling and walls, and he had plenty of cover. 

Suddenly a beam of light flashed across the screen, wiping out the visuals on the night-vision setting for a moment. The view changed as Beedee darted away from the source of it. Infrared came up with nothing. 

“What is that?” Cal asked urgently. Luke didn’t quite catch the reply, but Third Brother relaxed slightly. “Just a droid,” he told Luke. “An astromech.”

“It could be the one they call ‘Chopper’. If so, we shouldn’t underestimate it.”

Beedee was still moving. Cal quickened their pace to catch up. There wasn’t any sign of the rebels, just their droid. The camera view turned and they caught a glimpse of it. 

“That’s Chopper,” Luke said. It matched the images in the files. 

“Be careful,” Cal hissed to Beedee. The little droid didn’t seem inclined to listen though - he was creeping closer as the astromech’s head turned, scanning the corridor. It was almost inevitable when C1-10P turned entirely and found himself optic to optic with Beedee. 

Both droids warbled in alarm. Manipulator arms sprang out from around Chopper’s body spitting sparks. Beedee darted backwards with a noise of distress. Cal swore under his breath and broke into a run. They whirled around the final corner to find the astromech had backed Beedee into a corner and was trying to crush his much smaller body. 

Cal slid between them with his lightsaber lit and pointed at Chopper. “Get away from my droid or I’ll turn you into a collection of scrap!” he snarled. 

Chopper backed off, waving his arms and spitting threats of his own in binary. Cal thrust a hand out and wrapped the Force around the droid, keeping him still. Beedee emerged from behind him, leapt on top of the astromech, and sent a heavy burst of electricity through it that was enough to take it offline. Cal let go and the droid toppled backwards, landing with a loud clunk. Beedee jumped off Chopper with a whistle of victory. 

Third Brother visibly relaxed. “All right Beedee,” he said. “Think you can hack this droid’s comms unit?”

Beedee nodded. 

“What’s the plan?” Luke asked, coming over to join them. 

“We send out a request for assistance from the astromech,” Cal explained. “No need to go looking for the rebels if we can have them come to us.”


	26. Chapter 26

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Capture and conversation.

**4 BBY - Decommissioned Clone Wars medical station, Deep Space, Lothal Sector, Outer Rim Territories**

Ezra was glad to be able to get away from the  _ Ghost _ for a bit. Ever since they joined Phoenix Squadron full time things had been tense between Kanan and… most everyone else actually. Something about the military structure of Commander Sato’s unit was rubbing him the wrong way, and even if he and Hera kept their voices down it was hard to miss the frequent arguments between them. It was the same kind of problem with Rex, although that was… more about the fact that he was a clone. It didn’t seem to matter that Ahsoka vouched for him. All he had to do was walk in the room and Kanan started acting weird.

Ezra would have expected that at least Kanan and Ahsoka would have gotten along better than they actually were. They had both been part of the Jedi Order even if Ahsoka didn’t call herself a Jedi anymore, they must have all these shared experiences, shared culture, that Ezra could never really understand. He wasn’t sure why Kanan was avoiding her - as much as he could in the close quarters they all shared. 

Maybe it was something to do with Kanan’s worries about teaching him? That had caused problems before, when they went to search for Master Luminara Unduli. Kanan thought he wasn’t going to do a good enough job as Ezra’s Master, even though Ezra didn’t agree. 

Did he want Ahsoka to take over training him? 

Ezra wasn’t going to let him. Kanan was stuck with him now, and he’d better learn to like it! They were good together - Ahsoka had even said so herself. Kanan had nothing to worry about. 

Ahsoka and Leia  _ were _ helping Ezra learn more about the Force, he thought with a little bit of guilt. That didn’t mean he preferred them over Kanan. He should make sure Kanan knew that. He probably needed to say it out loud before Kanan would believe him. 

His wrist comm beeped. 

“It’s Chopper,” Ezra said, as Sabine turned back to look at him. “Say again?” he asked. Chopper’s binary hadn’t come through very clearly, but it sounded like it had been a request for help. 

“What’s going on?” Zeb asked over his shoulder. 

“I don’t know,” Ezra replied. “It sounds like Chopper needs help with something.”

“We’d better head back up to the command centre then,” Sabine said. 

It sounded kind of urgent. Ezra glanced around, then something in the ceiling caught his attention. With a smile he gestured upwards. “How about a shortcut?”

“The vents?” Zeb groaned. “There’s no way I’ll fit in there. Can’t we just go the long way round?”

“Chopper sounded like he was in trouble,” Ezra said. “This place is abandoned though - there hasn’t been any sign of anyone else out here. I’m sure Sabine and I can deal with whatever it is. You could always keep looking for the supplies?”

Zeb grumbled something inaudible, but shrugged. “Guess I could.”

There wasn’t any kind of cover on the vent, and it was easy enough for Ezra to leap up and clamber inside. Sabine followed him with a quick leg-up from Zeb. Ezra had never been claustrophobic, and there was something comforting about climbing around ventilation systems. He didn’t know what it was - maybe the sense of being safe and protected by all the metal wrapping around him, being able to peer out and see things while knowing he was totally hidden. 

Chopper had downloaded a map of the station for them earlier, and Ezra used it to navigate to his position. He and Sabine popped up out of a floor grate on the next level. 

“Chopper,” he called, trying to keep his voice from echoing. He had a bad feeling about this. “Chopper, where are you?”

There was no reply. No sound, no movement. Exchanging glances, he and Sabine started to explore the nearby corridors. He couldn’t have gotten far. 

For the first few minutes of searching they didn’t find anything. Then Ezra turned a corner and saw a light half-way down the next corridor at about waist height. It was a low red glow, and it looked like a droid’s optic. Chopper’s didn’t look like that though. He frowned. “Chopper?” 

“What is that?” Sabine said, shining her light that way. The beam played over a little droid. It wasn’t Chopper, and it wasn’t a model Ezra knew either. It was mostly optic, with a small squarish body and short, slender legs. It cocked its head at them. In the darkness behind it, something moved. 

With a hiss, a red lightsaber ignited, throwing the corridor into stark relief. It lit up two figures, both human males. Ezra didn’t know the one at the front, the one brandishing the saber, but he knew the other. “That’s the one we met on the  _ Sovereign _ ,” he said to Sabine, starting to back away. This wasn’t good. 

The other Inquisitor - because that’s what he had to be - looked curious at Ezra’s words, but it didn’t distract him from his goal. “Ezra Bridger,” he called out. “We’ve been looking for you and your friends for some time.”

Ezra wasn’t about to stick around for the rest of his speech. He’d heard more than enough of those from the pau’an Inquisitor. He grabbed his lightsaber off his belt, ignited it, and yelled, “Run!”

Sabine’s blaster pistol was already in her hand. She fired a few shots off to cover their retreat as they both made a break for it. When the new Inquisitor came after them though it was with terrifying speed. All of a sudden he was right next to them, his lightsaber swinging down towards Ezra’s head and it was all he could do to get his own blade in the way in time. Sabine kept firing, forcing the Inquisitor to halt and block the bolts as they both scrambled backwards. The man let them go a short distance and then he threw his saber after them. It cut through the air in an arc of death and Ezra heard himself yelp in fear - it  _ wasn’t _ a scream - as he threw himself to the ground to let it pass overhead. 

The other Inquisitor rounded the corner with the little droid trotting at his heels, frowning. As he drew level with his companion he said, “I thought the plan was to take them alive.”

“That’s still the plan,” the older Inquisitor said, caught his lightsaber on the return and flicked out the other half of the double blades. He stalked forwards and reached out a hand - Ezra felt as though the air around him had suddenly become as thick as tar. He tried to move and it was almost in slow motion. His heart pounded in his chest. He reached for the Force, for the Light, but fear made his grasp on it slippery and inconsistent. There was only the Dark, cold and heavy and cloying.

The Inquisitor looked at him almost pityingly. “You could give up?” he suggested. 

“No thanks,” Ezra managed to say. The sluggishness wore off suddenly and he stumbled back with jerky movements. 

The Inquisitor shrugged and darted forwards again, leaping into the air in what Ezra now recognised as Ataru, bringing his blade down - no, two blades! Ezra swayed out of the way of one and blocked the other - he just about managed to figure out how that had happened. This Inquisitor’s lightsaber split into two somehow and slotted back into the familiar circular guard just as easily. The Inquisitor pressed the attack with powerful blows, though not with the same terrific speed as before. Ezra was able to block them, though it wasn’t easy. 

Sabine switched her focus to the other Darksider, snapping off a few quick shots. Seeming almost bored by it he swayed out of the way of the first one before calling his lightsaber to his hand with a quick motion and batting the rest of them away into the walls. At least he was staying back. Ezra couldn’t keep away two Inquisitors at once. He was barely managing one, and even then he got the feeling the man was just playing with him. 

“We need to find Zeb and Chopper,” he said to Sabine. 

“I know!” She gestured behind them, and Ezra turned his head just enough to see the blast doors blocking their way from the corner of his eye. 

“ _ Karabast _ !” he said, with feeling.

“No way out,” the older Inquisitor said. “Surrender and nobody has to lose any limbs.”

Oh Force. 

Sabine was working at the control panel. The two Inquisitors weren’t bothering to run, approaching as though they had all the time in the world. The older one even took a moment to fix his hair! Ezra took a deep breath and tried to centre himself. He knew what happened to Jedi the Inquisitors took alive. It was what had happened to Leia’s brother, made him into  _ this _ . Dying might be the better option if capture meant serving the Empire and hunting down his friends. 

He was ready to go down fighting but then the doors hissed open behind him. He followed Sabine through them, sudden hope and fear catching the breath in his throat, but something grabbed his ankles. A tight grip in the Force. He lost his footing, slammed down hard on his front and slid backward over the metal floor scrabbling for any kind of handhold to stop this. 

“Ezra!” Sabine shouted, turning back. “No!”

“Run!” he called back. She could still make it out, get help. They wanted him more than they wanted her. 

She turned back towards him all the same. Ezra looked around, his thoughts whirling and made his decision in almost the same moment as he acted on it. He thrust his arm forwards wildly, sinking the very tip of his lightsaber into the blast door’s control panel. The doors slammed shut with Sabine on the other side. 

He had just trapped himself with the Inquisitors. It was worth it, to save Sabine. 

“How noble,” the older Inquisitor said with a sigh. There was something in his eyes, a kind of weariness that didn’t make sense. Ezra didn’t have time to analyse it. The invisible talons of the Dark Side closed around him again, holding him in place while the Inquisitor ripped his weapon out of his hand. He had to remind the terrified part of him that they wanted him alive - at least for now. 

Yeah, that last part wasn’t comforting. None of it was, actually. 

Leia’s brother joined them. What had she called him? Luke? He looked as calm and unbothered by all this as he had on the Star Destroyer, up until he’d gotten angry about the stormtroopers nearly dying. His eyes were this pure metallic gold, faintly luminescent in the low light. The colour was almost… hypnotic. 

“You can leave him to me, and get after the others,” Luke said to his companion. “The girl was Sabine Wren, and they mentioned Zeb. That must mean the Lasat.”

“Neither of them will prove much of a problem,” the older Inquisitor said. “I thought you said the Padawans were dangerous? This one isn’t that impressive.” 

Ezra bristled, but he couldn’t exactly deny it. 

Luke shrugged. “That was mostly the other one,” he replied. 

The Inquisitor nodded, and let go of the grip holding Ezra up. He almost fell to the floor again, but managed to catch himself. He looked at Luke warily. There was no acknowledgement, no mercy in his gaze. A shiver ran down his spine. It reminded him of being stared down by the fynocks, on the asteroid. By a predator. 

Given his brush with using the Dark Side connecting with the fynock matriarch, it seemed like a bad omen. 

“Come on then,” Luke said, gesturing for Ezra to go on ahead. 

“Not worried I’ll run?” Ezra asked. 

“You wouldn’t get far,” Luke replied. He sounded utterly confident. Ezra swallowed, and started walking. 

The older Inquisitor stalked off in another direction, and Luke guided him through the corridors to the station control room. It was dark and silent, and there was no sign of Chopper. 

“What did you do to our droid?” Ezra couldn’t stop himself asking, even though he didn’t think he’d like the answer.

“Your droid is fine,” Luke replied. “Shut down, but I doubt there’s any permanent damage. We’ll collect him on the way out.”

“So what’s the plan now?” Ezra said, turning with teeth bared. He tried to keep a hold of his anger and his fear. They weren’t useful here. If he didn’t control himself… 

“Now we have a conversation,” Luke said.

“About what? About turning to the Dark Side? About betraying my friends? Not gonna happen.”

“If that’s your choice, then you have the right to make it,” the Inquisitor said, which… wasn’t what Ezra had expected at all. “You should know what your options are though.”

“What makes you so sure I don’t?”

Luke sat down on one of the few chairs the room still held. He seemed completely relaxed. He was even smiling slightly. Friendly. Leia wanted to believe that he wasn’t evil. Obi-wan thought he wanted them to help him with his goal, which was to  _ kill the Emperor _ , apparently. Either way, he had let them go before. Why not now? Was it the other Inquisitor? Or was it just that Ezra wasn’t Leia. 

“The Jedi lie,” Luke said. “I think you know that yourself.”

“Everyone lies.” Ezra wasn’t falling for  _ this _ . It wasn’t even original. The pau’an had tried it as well, telling him all the things Kanan had supposedly failed to teach him. “That’s just how people work.”

“And that makes it okay, when people you care about keep things from you?”

“If they have good reasons, maybe.” Ezra didn’t know whether Master Kenobi’s reasons had been good enough, but that wasn’t his call to make. 

“The Jedi lie about the Sith,” Luke said. “I’m pretty sure the Sith haven’t been totally honest about the Jedi either.”

That… wasn’t what Ezra had expected him to say at all. “But you’re still trying to hunt us down!” he protested. “Why would you do that?”

“Because it’s the best of the few bad choices I have right now. Besides, you’re only going to get yourself killed taking on the Empire like this. You’ve been fighting for what, over a year? You haven’t even achieved anything.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” Ezra snapped, his pride stung. They’d done plenty! They helped people all the time! 

“You could keep on hitting supply convoys like you have been for a hundred more years and it wouldn’t do anything to the Empire at all.” 

That wasn’t all they’d been doing - but perhaps Luke didn’t know that. This whole thing might be to bait him into admitting what the rebels were up to. Ezra reached for the Light Side to centre himself and said, “What would  _ you _ be doing then, to fight the Empire?”

“I’m going to become a Sith Lord,” Luke said, like that was a  _ sensible answer _ . “Then I’ll have the power to change what needs to be changed. To make things better for everyone.”

“For yourself, you mean.” Yeah. Totally not evil. Right. 

“No. This isn’t about me.”

“Why don’t I believe you?”

“Because you’ve been taught that the Dark Side is evil?” Luke suggested. “It isn’t. It can be used to do evil, but so can any kind of power. I  _ don’t want that _ . I want to end slavery. I want to make the galaxy a better place to live in. I want to root out corruption…”

“The  _ Empire _ is corrupt,” Ezra said. “If you really wanted all of those things, you wouldn’t be helping them! You wouldn’t be a part of the Empire, or… or planning to take it over.”

“I didn’t have a choice about how I got here. The Inquisitorius enslaved me.” Briefly - and Ezra didn’t think Luke was aware that he was doing it - his hand went up to touch his throat. Just above the high collar of his uniform the skin looked different. Ezra hadn’t noticed that until now. It didn’t look good. “It’s still enslaving me - but the Dark Side is giving me the tools to break free.”

“My Master told me that the Sith are slaves to the Dark Side.”

“The Dark Side doesn’t control me,” Luke said. “That’s kind of the whole point. I thought that was a Jedi thing, where you listen to the Force and let it tell you what to do.”

“Yeah, but…” Ezra paused. He knew Luke was wrong, he just couldn’t find the right words to explain why. He briefly wished Kanan was here, or Ahsoka. They would know what to say. Of course if they were here then it would be because they had been captured too… 

“The Dark Side isn’t easy, but it is strong. It could offer you that strength, if you have the will and determination to bring it to heel.” 

“I’m not going to join you,” Ezra said. Not easy? That wasn’t what Kanan had told him. The whole reason the Dark Side was so bad was because it was easy to use it. Then it would take you over, own you, turn you into something terrible. 

That wasn’t how Luke was describing it at all. 

“You aren’t going to have a choice,” Luke said, sounding frustrated for the first time. 

“I thought you said I did have a choice.”

Luke huffed out in a noise of irritation. “Maybe that wasn’t the best way to word it. I mean, you’re not going to have a  _ better _ choice. You belong to the Inquisitorius now. That means you either turn to the Dark Side or you die - and there’s going to be a lot of pain along the way.”

“You’re not exactly selling it right now.”

“I’m  _ trying _ to save you from that pain,” Luke said. “If you embrace the Dark Side here and now, you can skip all that. Not that being an Inquisitor is great fun or anything, but at least then you could still  _ do _ something. You’re not going to help anybody dead.”

“And on the way all I would have to do is murder people, and… and steal babies, and all that other stuff.” Did this guy really believe everything he was saying? Couldn’t he see how vaped it all was? “I’ll pass.”

“Would you rather die?” Luke honestly seemed to expect an answer. “I could give you back your lightsaber. You could fight me - although I would be trying not to kill you. You would just get your arm cut off or something. Or you could stab yourself with it? That’s what you’re saying is better than turning to the Dark Side right?”

“What is  _ wrong _ with you?!” Ezra couldn’t help shouting at him. 

“According to you, the Dark Side,” Luke said, with a small laugh. As though he hadn’t just suggested Ezra commit suicide. 

“Here’s a better plan. You let me go. Better still, you come with me. If you really mean all that about changing things, about not being evil…”

Luke sighed. “I told you what my plan is already. How exactly do you think I’d manage to kill the Emperor as one of some rag-tag bag of terrorists.”

“We’re  _ not _ terrorists.” Oh, there was the anger again. Ezra took deep breaths, trying to push it away. Release it into the Force, wasn’t that what Ahsoka said? Focus on the Light, cool and calming inside him. Ignore the Dark Side close all around. 

“Freedom fighters then.” Karabast, he looked so  _ honest _ . Like he really meant every word he was saying. Maybe he did - it wasn’t like those words were  _ sensible _ ones. “If you’re so convinced your way is the right way, explain it to me. Tell me how you’re changing things. Tell me how what you’re doing is going to do  _ anything _ to the Empire on a systemic level.”

“It’s not just about what we do,” Ezra replied. This at least he could answer. This he understood. “It’s about what we inspire other people to do! No, we can’t do much on our own, but we don’t have to  _ be _ on our own. The broadcast we sent out, that’s inspiring other people who heard it to rise up against you as well. Together…”

Luke sat back in his chair and shook his head, still frowning in frustration. Around them the Dark Side lurked, a weight pressing down, constantly moving, writhing, pacing like some circling beast “The Empire is experienced in putting down planetary rebellions and revolts. The more you push back from the outside, the more of their attention they’ll turn this way. I’ve read about it happening before.”

There wasn’t as much conviction in what he was saying now though. Ezra could sense it. “And you agree with that?” he asked. 

Luke hesitated. “No. There should be space for peaceful protest. To hear what people want, to learn and to do better. It’s just… you aren’t going to convince anyone who matters. Who has the power to make the changes we both want. That’s why I need to keep on doing this. I know Obi-wan Kenobi warned you I want your help, but is that idea really so bad? It gets us both what we want doesn’t it? You want the Emperor dead, don’t you?”

“Not if it means replacing him with someone just as bad.” For a moment, Ezra thought he had been able to reach him, but then Luke clamped back down again. The two of them stared at each other for a moment, then Ezra realised something. “What about Darth Vader? He’s a Sith too. You’d have to go through him first.”

Luke looked at him in silence. There was something odd about his expression, as though he was… suspicious. As though he was trying to figure something out. Then he said, “I’m the one who needs to worry about that.”

“Oh yeah? Don’t you think it would be my problem too if I joined you?”

“Is that going to happen?”

Ezra sighed. They were going around in circles - but that beat the alternative. “No. Obviously.”

“What can I do to help you trust me?” Luke asked. 

“You could let me go.”

“I did that already. I can’t keep doing that. It would look too suspicious at some point, and then that would be the end of it all. I gain nothing and lose everything.”

“So I’m just a sacrifice for your ambition?” 

“Sacrifice is necessary to get what you want,” Luke told him. His calm had returned, and with it that reasonable tone that made everything sound so normal until you actually thought about it for a second. “You’ve sacrificed other people for your rebellion haven’t you?”

“What? No I…”

“Stormtroopers don’t count?”

Ezra couldn’t answer that. He knew sometimes stormtroopers died because of what he and his friends did. He tried not to think about that too much. It wasn’t like they had a choice though. Capture was a death sentence - they had all done too much to get off with prison - and then they wouldn’t be able to help anyone anymore. The stormtroopers were trying to stop them. They worked for the Empire - they had to know the kind of system they were helping to prop up! 

Only, he knew too well that there weren’t always a lot of options on Lothal when you had nothing to start off with. The Empire didn’t pay well, but at least it paid. He had nodded ‘good morning’ in the street to people going off to work in one of the Sienar factories, and was that really so different? 

They had never tried to sabotage or bomb the factories. Why was that? 

“You see,” Luke said. “It’s a war. It’s the way things work. The Sith and the Inquisitorius understand that kind of thing.”

“I don’t believe anything is as black and white as that,” Ezra said, looking up and pushing his doubts aside. “Anyway, why are you so confident? Maybe you’ll do all of these terrible things helping the Empire and then you won’t even manage to kill the Emperor. Maybe you’ll die, and the galaxy will be worse for everything you did in it.”

Another flicker of doubt. Luke wasn’t letting it take hold though. “You should be even more eager to help me then. The more friends I have, the more likely I succeed.”

“Friends?” Ezra almost laughed. “Sith don’t have friends.”

“They’re not encouraged,” Luke admitted. “Ninth Sister would probably rather I call you allies, but I would prefer to make actual friends. We can help each other…”

“Who’s Ninth Sister?” 

“One of the other Inquisitors,” Luke said, not reacting to being interrupted. “We’re meant to give up our past when we join the Dark Side, so we all get names like that. I’m technically Fifteenth Brother. The friend I’m working with is Third Brother.”

“If you have to give up your past, why does Leia mean anything to you?”  _ If  _ she meant anything. Ezra still thought this was all some big manipulation. 

“She was my friend a long time before I knew she was my sister,” Luke said, with a bit of heat behind it. Along the edge of Ezra’s senses the Dark Side  _ growled _ . A shiver ran down his spine. He was suddenly very sure he didn’t want to see Luke truly angry. 

“Look,” Luke said. “Let me at least show you the Dark Side isn’t something to be afraid of.”

“How?” Ezra was deeply suspicious of _ that _ . 

“You don’t have to use the Dark Side to sense it.” Luke stretched out a hand towards him, palm upwards, open and welcoming. The Dark moved with it. It gathered like a cloak over the Inquisitor and his golden eyes glowed even more brightly. Ezra found his vision tunnelling in on them, the room around him sinking into shadow. His breath rasped loud in his ears. The Darkness was waiting all around him on the edge of the Light, still and quiet. Patient with anticipation. 

Ezra reached for the Light instinctively, looking for its protection and strength. It was a pale glow inside his chest flickering with every beat of his heart. Kanan had told him the Force was created by living things, that it was a part of them entwined down to the quantum level. The Light was made up of life itself. What was the Dark made up of?

“Reach out and  _ feel _ ,” Luke said. 

Ezra couldn’t really avoid it. It was all around him, pressing against his shields. It wasn’t looking for a way in but… maybe all he was sensing was Luke’s intentions, but there was some part of it that was reaching back, yearning, looking for a connection. 

Too many of Ezra’s lessons had focused on making connections. He brushed against the end of that link and felt… something. 

It wasn’t the Dark as he’d experienced it so far. That had been sticky and cloying and horrible. It had made him feel afraid, cold and a bit nauseous. So long as he was focused on the Light nothing about it was at all appealing - it only started to feel that way when he was angry and afraid, when it seemed to whisper to him that it could fix all of that and solve all of his problems. This… this was warm. Comforting. It welcomed him in with a sense of belonging and… joy? No. That couldn’t be right. The Dark Side wasn’t about emotions like that. 

“We’re stronger together,” Luke said. His voice sounded far away and right up close all at once. 

Ezra wasn’t sure what this was, or what was happening. He hesitated, still caught in the midst of the feeling, unsure about going any deeper into this. 

“Fifteenth Brother?”

That was a new voice, sharp and unfamiliar. It cut through the almost dream fugue, and Ezra dropped back into himself and into the Light. Someone else had joined them in the control room. It was the other Inquisitor, the one Luke called Third Brother. He was carrying Sabine over his shoulder, slumped unconscious. 

Any warm, fuzzy feelings Ezra had been experiencing dropped away, and fear took their place. Was she okay? What had happened? He didn’t see any obvious injuries, so what had knocked her out and why hadn’t she woken up yet?

Third Brother set Sabine down on the floor next to Ezra then stepped back. “Has he given you anything yet?” he asked Luke. 

“Nothing much,” Luke said. He looked at Sabine. “Where’s the lasat?”

“No sign of him,” the other Inquisitor replied, “but we should only need these two.”

On the floor Sabine started to stir. She pushed herself up into a sitting position, shaking her head. 

“What next?” Luke asked. 

On Third Brother’s back the small droid whistled a suggestion. “Might work,” the man replied, then told Ezra, “Contact your rebel friends. Tell them you’re in trouble, and you need their help.”

“Why would we ever agree to do that?” Ezra said, baring his teeth. Sabine groaned softly, and slumped against the big holo-emitter they were sitting next to. Her eyes were faintly glassy. 

“It looks like your friend here has a concussion,” Third Brother said. “Call your friends here, and she’ll get medical attention. If not…”

Ezra clenched his jaw. Bad enough Sabine was in this situation too, there was no way he was calling Hera or Kanan or any of Phoenix Squadron and getting them into it too. He was about to refuse again when his comlink crackled into life. 

“ _ Hello Spectre-6, come in _ ,” what was clearly Zeb’s voice said. “ _ Do you read? This is Commander Meiloorun.” _

“Answer him,” Third Brother ordered. 

Ezra didn’t know what Zeb was planning, but he obviously had something in mind here. Sabine could see it too. She roused herself, leaned in and said, “Commander Meiloorun. Yes - yes, I can hear you.”

“ _ You missed your check in,” _ Zeb said.  _ “Am I correct in assuming mechanical difficulties have your craft stranded again and you’re in need of help with repairs? _ ”

Ezra glanced at the Inquisitors. Third Brother seemed irritated by all of this. Luke was harder to read, but he met Ezra’s gaze and nodded encouragement. 

“Commander, we uh… we can handle everything. No need for you or the others.”

“Wrong answer,” Third Brother whispered. His lightsaber hissed on and swung round to hover at Sabine’s throat. 

“No, Commander!” Ezra said, his heart hammering in his chest. He just hoped this kind of response was what Zeb was hoping for. “We changed our mind. We  _ could  _ use some help.” Third Brother’s eyes were merciless. “Bring Kanan - and Ahsoka too,” Ezra said, hoping that would be enough to get him to stop with the threats. 

It was. He pulled the red blade away, stowing it away on his back next to his droid. 

“ _ Very well, _ ” Zeb said. “ _ I’ll meet you in Bay Six. Don’t worry. We’ll fix everything. Just keep your chin up and it’ll all be fine.” _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Luke, trying to channel Ninth Sister: Hey, it worked on me!


	27. Chapter 27

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Ezra grapples with the Dark Side, and our two favourite Inquisitors continue their hunt.

**4 BBY - Decommissioned Clone Wars medical station, Deep Space, Lothal Sector, Outer Rim Territories**

Third Brother watched the kids walk in front of him with a heavy weight in his stomach. These poor fools were going to suffer, just like the friends they were leading into a trap. Their attachment to each other had been their weak point, easy to exploit. He didn’t  _ like  _ it, but it was his job. The Emperor himself had assigned it. The consequences of failure would be terrible, and these rebels would be dealt with eventually whether it was by Third and Fifteenth, or by someone else. 

The Dark Side was all around him and it was easy to let it wash away his guilt and stoke his anger with these two to replace it. If they didn’t insist on resisting something that couldn’t be stopped then he wouldn’t be in this position, ready to kill them or turn them over to the Inquisitorius - or to the firing squad in the case of Wren and the other Force-nulls. 

It wasn’t far to Bay Six, and he marched the teenagers inside. Of course their allies weren’t here yet. It would be a while before they arrived. He glanced over his shoulder at Fifteenth Brother. When he returned to the control room with the girl, Fifteenth had felt odd in the Force. He’d been doing something with Bridger, and not just getting inside his mind. Third wasn’t sure what it had been. It hadn’t worked to get him on side though, if that was what it had been all about. The padawan still felt rooted in the Light. Third Brother remembered when the Light was a comfort rather than a painful prickle at the edge of his senses, before the Dark Side took over everything. 

There was no use thinking about the past, he reminded himself. There was no way back. 

“The lasat is somewhere nearby,” Fifteenth Brother said. “I sense him.”

The two rebels tensed, fear bleeding off of them. Third Brother reached out in the Force looking for whatever Fifteenth had detected. He sensed it too - the flicker of another mind. It was close… 

“Ah,” Fifteenth Brother said, igniting his saber and looking up. “I don’t know how we didn’t see  _ this  _ coming.”

The small craft mag-locked to the ceiling dropped down, firing its cannons as it went. It flipped back right way up and hovered in front of them, still blasting. Fifteenth slid slightly in front of Third Brother and deflected the shots with confident arcs of his blade. The ship - Third Brother recognised it now as the  _ Phantom  _ \- swayed to avoid the parried bolts and kited across the hanger to cut them off from their prisoners. Third felt a faint tug at his waist and swore as Bridger’s lightsaber went flying into the boy’s hands, then Bridger and Wren were jumping into the open rear of the shuttle with the craft immediately turning again to make its escape. 

“No you don’t,” Fifteenth Brother said, and flung out a hand. The Dark wrapped around the ship in a crushing grip. Shadow and void rippled out from the Sith-in-training, a vast black cloak that felt too much like Darth Vader for comfort. Third Brother shivered. It was almost possible to forget how strong the boy was when the power was locked away behind his shields, but then he would go and do something like this. 

The shuttle was dragged backwards despite its engines roaring as the pilot pushed full power into them. Third Brother could see his help wouldn’t be necessary. He turned his attention to the hanger’s blast doors instead, triggering the mechanism to close them and cut off any hope of escape. The teenagers cried out in horror and fear. Their emotions bled off into the Force, strengthening the Dark. The mandalorian girl started shooting at them again, but it wasn’t much of a threat - Third Brother kept the bolts well clear of Fifteenth and let him concentrate on the ship. The small vessel was shuddering, metal creaking and groaning as the opposing forces acting on it started to tear the whole thing apart. It wasn’t going to stay intact much longer. 

The padawan’s fear jumped - Third Brother could almost taste it, sharp and bitter and electric. Bridger was wild with desperation, panicking, pushing uselessly against Fifteenth’s implacable hold. Briefly their eyes met across the expanse of the hangar. Then… 

Third Brother wasn’t entirely sure what happened. He felt himself lifted up and thrown back by something physical, not by the Force, and he hit his head hard as he came back down again. Dizzy, he managed to sit up and blinked until he could make sense of the situation. The shuttle was gone, the bright dots of its engines just visible through the closing crack of the hangar-bay doors. Next to him Fifteenth Brother had also been knocked prone, and was rubbing a cut on his cheek that was bleeding slightly. Where they had both been standing the deck plates were buckled and torn, twisted upwards into a jagged mess. 

“What the kriff was that?” Third Brother asked. How exactly had the rebels snatched an escape out from under them? This had already been a done deal! 

“The padawan,” Fifteenth said, with a rueful smile. 

“What? That makes no sense.”

Fifteenth was still smiling, which also didn’t make sense. This had been an intolerable failure. “He knew he wasn’t strong enough to attack us directly, so he worked a way around the problem,” Fifteenth gestured to the ruin of the floor. 

“He shouldn’t have been strong enough to do that either.”

“Didn’t you feel it?” He looked genuinely  _ pleased _ . “He touched the Dark Side to do it. We might not have captured them, but we’re one step closer to turning him.”

\----

**4 BBY - Garel, Garel System, Lothal Sector, Outer Rim Territories**

Ezra cursed himself all the way back to their home base. He  _ knew  _ the Dark Side’s power was a trap. He  _ knew  _ he needed to avoid it at all costs. Only there hadn’t been a choice! The strength of the Force-grip around their shuttle had been as terrifying and as irresistible as a black hole, and it was obvious that there was no way to break it. Sabine couldn’t get past the defence the Third Brother was putting up to shoot Luke. He had to do something, but the fear was choking. The Light seemed very far away, and some part of him was still open to that understanding and connection Luke had shown him. 

He wanted to escape. He wanted to fight. He wanted to protect the people he cared about, and there the Dark was, offering itself up like the fynock matriarch had been there to help him. Like called to like, shared emotions drawn together. The fynock was a predator and it understood defending your pack - Ezra hadn’t consciously reached for it, and it hadn’t consciously offered its help, but their minds had linked in a flash of empathy that the Dark Side made possible. It had been the conduit. 

In that moment on the shuttle, there had been no other mind, only the Dark itself. Yet the emotions he was feeling had echoed with something in it, and then it had been right there inside of him and he couldn’t  _ not  _ use it. Time had seemed to slow. He’d seen what he had to do, and sunk mental claws into the floor of the hangar and  _ wrenched _ . 

Then the shuttle was free in a wild jerk, jetting through the closing doors and away. 

Sabine and Zeb and even Chopper had congratulated him but they didn’t know how he’d done it. They couldn’t sense the Dark Side. All they knew was that he had saved them. 

As soon as he didn’t need it any more Ezra had dropped hold of the Dark and gone struggling and gasping back to the Light. Returning to it was like taking the first breath of air after diving underwater, and the first few moments of it burned inside him like painful pins and needles until he got his calm back. He hadn’t Fallen, but that didn’t mean he could get complacent. 

If the Inquisitors had captured them they wanted him to turn to the Dark Side for real. Surely using it briefly to stop that happening was the best of two bad choices?

He knew he should talk to Kanan about this, but he was afraid. He was already a less impressive padawan than Leia, and what if Kanan blamed himself for not teaching him well enough? What if Ahsoka told Kanan to stop training him altogether? Besides, he didn’t plan on doing it ever again. He would have to tell them something though. Sabine knew he’d been captured first, and Phoenix Squadron would want assurances that he hadn’t given any information away. 

He would have to try and explain that odd conversation with Leia’s brother. That wouldn’t be easy because he still didn’t understand it himself. At least Kanan and Ahsoka would be able to help him with  _ that _ . 

**\----**

Ezra, Sabine and Zeb were a little late coming back with the medical supplies, but when the  _ Phantom _ reappeared in the skies above Garel city it had only been a few hours over the deadline. Kanan had been reassuring himself with that thought that perhaps the abandoned station had been more of a mess than they had been anticipating and the supplies hard to locate, but then he went out to the landing pad to welcome them home and saw the state that the shuttle was in. It looked like someone had tried to put it into an industrial compactor and thought better of it at the last moment. Plating was buckled inwards in various places, there was a small but worrying crack in the viewscreen, and it was frankly something of a miracle that it hadn’t lost air pressure during the journey. 

The  _ Phantom _ banked gently to land, and a few moments later the exit ramp hissed upwards. Zeb walked out supporting a slightly dizzy-looking Sabine, Ezra and Chopper following on close behind with several crates marked with medical symbols. At least they’d succeeded in the mission, but… 

“What  _ happened _ ?” Kanan demanded. 

“Inquisitors happened,” Zeb replied with a scowl. Kanan’s stomach immediately dropped. He gave the shuttle another look. Crushing damage… the kind of strength that took in the Force… 

“Sabine needs a medical check,” Ezra said. “She hit her head kinda hard.”

“Explosions,” Sabine said. “Bounced off a bulkhead.” She patted around on her belt before she found where she’d mag-locked her helmet and held it up. There was a noticeable scrape where half the paint had been stripped off, and a slight dent in the beskar. If she hadn’t been wearing it, that would be a much worse dent in her  _ skull _ . 

“Zeb…?” 

“I’ll take her,” the lasat said before Kanan could finish asking. “Ezra can fill you in.”

Sabine was a little unsteady on her feet, but with Zeb’s help she made it out of the hangar under her own power. Chopper beeped and started stacking crates and fussing irritably over the state of the  _ Phantom _ . That left Kanan and Ezra alone to talk. 

First things first. “Are you okay?” Kanan asked. 

“I’m not injured.”

“Not all injuries are physical.”

Ezra looked away, his expression troubled. “I’m alright. They didn’t hurt me. Just… talked at me.”

Both of them had some experience of being talked at by Inquisitors, but Kanan hadn’t seen his padawan quite as unsettled as this after their encounters with the pa’uan. “Let’s sit down,” he suggested, gesturing to the  _ Ghost _ parked the next bay over. “Hera’s out shopping. We’ll have the place to ourselves.”

“Is Ahsoka here? Or Leia?”

Kanan shook his head. “Ahsoka is with Phoenix Squadron. Leia… I think she said something about party supplies?”

Ezra’s eyes widened briefly. “Oh. Yeah. It’s Empire Day soon.”

Kanan had a brief moment of confusion while he tried to figure out why they would care about celebrating Empire Day before he remembered. “It’s your birthday, isn’t it?”

“Leia’s too - two days later,” Ezra said. “Ahsoka and Rex were talking about a joint party, but I guess she must have been called away by something important.” He shrugged, and Kanan felt a stab of guilt. Ezra’s birthday didn’t have many happy memories attached to it, but they had an opportunity to change that going forwards. 

This was getting away from the thing they needed to talk about though. He led Ezra up the  _ Ghost’s _ ramp and to his room, where they would have privacy even if someone else came back early. 

“So,” he said. “Tell me what happened.”

Ezra explained about arriving on the station, seemingly deserted, Chopper’s distress signal, and then the appearance of the Inquisitors. “One of them was Leia’s brother,” he said. “The other one was older. Luke… After they captured me…” He winced - Kanan’s horrified reaction must have been more obvious than he thought. “It wasn’t my fault! We tried to run, but…”

Kanan held up a hand. “One thing at a time,” he said. “Breathe. Take it slow.” 

Ezra did so, a great sigh in and out. Then he swallowed and said, “Luke told me Inquisitors don’t have proper names. He said he’s called Fifteenth Brother, and the other Inquisitor was Third Brother. So.. that means there are at least fifteen Inquisitors right? If they’re all after us, how are we going to ever beat them!”

Kanan understood why he was so upset. It felt too big, too horrible - but so did fighting the Empire. Thinking about the whole thing  _ was _ overwhelming. You had to break it down into smaller bits. Deal with the problem in front of you. 

“After Mustafar, Ahsoka and Obi-wan told me what they knew about the Inquisitors,” Kanan said. “A lot of things we still don’t know, but they seem to work alone or in pairs. These two have probably been assigned to hunt us specifically - we won’t have to deal with all of them.” 

“That’s still  _ terrifying _ ,” Ezra said. “Luke and the other one… I didn’t stand a chance against them. If they wanted me dead, I’d be  _ dead _ .” 

Kanan could feel his distress pouring out into the Force. “Come here.” He opened his arms and let Ezra almost collapse into a hug. He held on tight. “It’s alright.” He wished he could mean that. It wasn’t the kind of promise anyone could keep - but as long as he was alive he was going to protect his padawan as best he could from whatever this cruel galaxy had to throw at him. 

“They caught me first,” Ezra said, muffled against his shoulder. “The Third Brother went after Zeb and Sabine, and Luke… he just talked to me. Tried to convince me I was on the wrong side, or that the Dark Side isn’t evil. He said the rebels are never going to win so it’s pointless for us to try. He said we should just join him and help him fix everything that's wrong with the Empire.”

“Fighting evil and injustice is never pointless.”

Ezra shifted slightly. “I know. I told him that. He said he’s going to kill the Emperor and we’re never going to have a hope of doing that.”

It wasn’t anything they hadn’t  _ guessed  _ based on the fact that the kid was a Sith, but it was still a weird feeling to hear that he had admitted to it so easily. “Even if he does kill the Emperor, he’s still a servant of the Dark Side. Nothing will change. I know it seems tough, impossible at times…”

Ezra shook his head. “He said he doesn’t serve the Dark Side, it serves him. He sounded like he was telling the truth - or he thought he was telling the truth.”

“The Dark Side blinds us to reality,” Kanan said. “It corrupts those who use it.” 

He felt Ezra draw back out of their embrace, and let him go. His padawan gave him a wary look. “When we were talking,” he said, taking care over his words, “He tried to show me what he meant, about the Dark Side. He sort of… reached out with it. It’s hard to explain. I’m not sure what he was doing. It felt different to how the Dark Side usually feels.”

“Different?” Kanan wished that he knew more about the Sith. They’d been thought dead for so long before Master Kenobi made his name killing one on Naboo, and studying them had never been encouraged anyway. It was a potentially dangerous practice. The Dark Side could be seductive, a quick path to power. Was that what Luke had been trying to show Ezra? 

“Less… hateful. Less about pain, I think.” He was clearly struggling to find the words. “It didn’t feel… bad.” Ezra shook himself. “I know that’s not right though. Even if it wasn’t the same, it was still the Dark Side, right?”

“Right,” Kanan replied slowly. He found himself thinking back to that moment over Mustafar, touching something that wasn’t the Light while he fought the pau’an. He would need to think about this some more. 

**\----**

**3 BBY -** **_ISD-_ ** **Colossus, patrolling the Lothal Sector**

Luke scrolled through reports and updates on his datapad, looking for anything that mentioned Darth Vader. He knew the Sith had gone after Kenobi in the aftermath of Mustafar, and that he would be pursuing any leads with single-minded determination, but even the information his Inquisitorial clearance let him access didn’t tell him much. Kenobi had been spotted briefly on Glee Anselm in the Mid Rim not long after escaping Mustafar, before popping up again on Ansion. He was travelling alone, obviously trying to draw heat away from the other rebels. Luke couldn’t see any evidence of where he had gone after that. 

It meant he had no idea when he would next see Vader again. 

The knowledge that Vader was his father had been itching away inside him since Leia told him about it, all the more so since Empire Day - and his birthday - had been and gone. Not that things like birthdays were even acknowledged in the Inquisitorius. Luke hadn't had any kind of celebration to mark the event in years, though he could pretend that part of the parades and parties were for him. It was Leia's birthday as well - he hoped she'd had a good time. He wanted to tell someone about Vader, to get advice from someone, but this wasn’t the kind of thing he  _ could  _ speak about with anyone he knew. According to the Inquisitorial code it shouldn’t even matter. It would only paint a target on his back. Even if Vader was here, even if they could talk, there was a large chance it wouldn’t go well. 

From a young age Luke had wanted to know his father and had built up this image of him in his head. He had thought of those dreams less on Arkanis, because the idea of actually getting away from there had felt impossible after a while. It still hurt though to find out that even if his father was still alive he wasn’t anything like the picture he’d imagined. 

The ridiculous hope nestled inside his heart had changed now to the idea that perhaps Vader  _ would  _ accept him,  _ would  _ care about him even if he wasn’t supposed to. Vader was training him, wasn’t he? That meant he saw something in Luke that he liked. Or perhaps he just thought he could be useful. 

Thinking too much about it wasn’t helpful, particularly when Vader was likely to be out of touch for some time. Even if he did find Kenobi - and he hadn’t yet for the past five years he’d spent in intermittent searching - Luke had his own mission. He and Cal had managed to avoid any punishment for their failure on the medical station by blatantly lying and claiming there hadn’t been any rebels there after all. The Emperor didn’t appear interested in keeping very close tabs on them - he hadn’t made contact since assigning them this mission. Luke supposed he must get reports from Agent Kallus and other locals as well as the reports Cal sent in and that seemed to be enough for now. 

The man did have an entire galaxy to run after all. One star system, even one containing Jedi, couldn't be at the top of his priority list, right?

There hadn’t been any further sign of Spectre or Phoenix Squadron since then. His conversation with Ezra Bridger had been interesting, and it proved that he had the courage of his convictions at least. He hoped he’d given the padawan something to think about, perhaps proved that the Dark Side wasn’t something to fear. Next time they met… 

There were plenty of possibilities. Luke just hoped Bridger made the right choice. 

\----

**3 BBY -** **_ISD-_ ** **Colossus, blockading Ibaar, Outer Rim Territories**

“This isn’t working,” Third Brother said, as they watched the wreckage of the other cruiser start to smear out across Ibaar’s gravity well. 

Agent Kallus turned on him with an expression of quiet fury. “I can see that,” he said through gritted teeth. 

“I didn’t mean  _ this _ ,” Cal said, waving at the debris from the rebel’s new weapon. Where  _ had  _ they gotten that bomber, Luke wondered? “You were right in predicting that Imperial sanctions here would draw the attention of Phoenix Squadron, but Inquisitors aren’t of any use during a naval engagement. All we could do here was watch. This isn’t helping our mission to locate and destroy the Jedi.”

Kallus calmed a little. “What do you suggest?”

“We separate our efforts,” Cal said. “Play to our strengths. You should continue trying to pin these traitors down in military engagements while Fifteenth Brother and I take a more subtle approach.”

Kallus frowned. “I understood you had no leads.”

Third Brother shrugged. “Phoenix Squadron must be getting their supplies from somewhere. We know Spectre has ties to the Broken Horn Syndicate. Perhaps we can squeeze some information from the criminal underworld.”

“It’s as good a plan as any,” Kallus said, sighing. “Good luck.”

Luke thought they were going to need it.

\----

That night, Luke opened his eyes to a familiar field of grass and a blue sky. Leia was looking down at him.

“Ezra says he barely managed to escape from you,” she said. 

Leia was angry at him. It wasn’t really a surprise, even though Luke had already warned her several times that he was going to do what was necessary to achieve his goals. Ezra was still her friend too. What she knew and what she felt were two different things. 

The dream-scape was as lovely and calming as ever. Luke looked up at the clouds, refusing to feel ashamed of his actions. “He was clever and lucky,” he said. 

Leia huffed, but sat down on the grass next to him. Her arms were folded, her real face scowling beneath the overlay of petals, but she didn’t try and press the point. “He also said you weren’t working alone,” she said. “There was another Inquisitor with you.”

“Third Brother. All the newer Inquisitors have to work with a partner for a while.”

“To keep you in line?” Leia said. Some of her anger was on Luke’s behalf this time. “Luke, if you ever want to escape from them we’ll help you.”

“I know you will.” The thought filled him up with warmth. Leia really did care about him, for all the differences and obstacles the nature of their world put between them. “I have to stay though. You know why.”

She nodded. “This other Inquisitor… does he treat you well?”

“He treats me fine,” Luke was quick to reassure her. “He’s a friend, I think. It’s difficult for him to trust me because most of the other Inquisitors would take advantage of that trust. It’s hard to convince him I’m different.”

“Surely anyone who meets you can see you’re different?”

Luke laughed. “I wish it was that easy,” he said. 

There was quiet for a moment, and then Leia said, “Happy birthday Luke."

"Happy birthday to you as well. Sorry I didn't get you a present."

She smiled and reached for his hand, pressing it between her own. Warmth like dawn sunshine spread from it, filling him up. "How would you get it to me, exactly?"

"I could give it to Ezra next time I see him," Luke joked. 

"Maybe my present could be letting him escape again?" 

It took the wind out of the attempt at lightheartedness. Luke sighed. "You know I can’t do that. "

Leia squeezed his hand again. "I wish things weren’t like this," she said. "I wish you didn’t have to chase us. I wish we’d grown up together.”

“If we had, you might have been taken by the Inquisitorius too.”

“Or you would have been taught to be a Jedi like me,” Leia said. 

Luke shrugged. It was a nice thought, but that’s all it was. “I’m not sure I would want to be a Jedi anyway,” he said. “I’m fine over here.”

Leia frowned again. “With all that pain? With everything the Inquisitorius has cost you?”

“That’s not all that the Dark Side is about.”

“Ezra said you told him that too. You tried to show him something.”

Luke nodded. “I wanted him to see that the Dark Side isn’t just pain and anger and suffering. It’s other emotions too.” 

“Master Kenobi would say that’s impossible,” Leia said. “But he also couldn’t believe that you’re not evil, so I think perhaps that’s something else he’s mistaken about.”

“Ezra has a lot of potential in the Dark Side,” Luke said. “He’d be much more effective becoming an Inquisitor and helping me change the Empire from the inside. You all would.”

Leia rolled her eyes at him. “That speech isn’t going to work on me,” she said. “I understand what you’re trying to do Luke, and I’m not going to tell you you’re wrong, but you can’t tell people who are being hurt and abused and killed to try and change the system from the inside when that was never an option for them. We’re going to fight, and we’re going to work together, and we’re going to bring the Empire down eventually. Maybe you’ll get there first and change things enough that we don’t have to do that, but don’t try and tell me that what I’m doing isn’t worth it.”

Luke looked down. “No,” he said. He already knew most of Spectre hadn’t had any other choice. “You’re right. I’m sorry.”

He did wonder though if Ezra had told her about using the Dark Side. It  _ would  _ be a pity to waste that potential. 

**\----**

**3 BBY - Inquisitorius Shuttle** **_Eliminator_ ** **, Lothal Sector, Outer Rim Territories**

If Luke and Cal hadn’t had much luck chasing rumours around the Lothal sector and beyond, at least they could take comfort in the fact that Agent Kallus hadn’t been any more successful either. None of the Broken Horn affiliates they had managed to track down knew anything concrete about the insurgents. The main contact between the syndicate and the Spectre cell appeared to be the syndicate’s boss Cikatro Vizago, who was clearly very practised at avoiding Imperial authorities. His location was just as secret as that of the rebels themselves. The Broken Horn was a dead end. 

Another promising lead in the form of a Black Sun bounty hunter named Ketsu Onyo had also fallen through when she too proved to be in the wind. At least it meant they had identified another associate of Spectre, this one an old friend of Sabine Wren’s. Third Brother had authorised an Imperial bounty on her, and an increase to the pre-existing one for Vizago, but they weren’t expecting anything to come of it any time soon. 

Luke had resorted to meditation to try and force the Dark Side to give him something to go on. For several fruitless nights he immersed himself in the Force with his thoughts fixed on the rebels, ignoring the bond he had with Leia that the Dark kept on throwing at him as an answer to his demands. That wasn’t what he needed. He wasn’t going to ask Leia where she was. She wouldn’t answer, for one thing, and it wasn’t a fair thing to do to her either. Finally he felt the Dark latch onto something, a shiver of resonance amongst the stringed fabric of reality. 

His vision swam and then he found himself in an unfamiliar city with tall, domed buildings. He was at ground level, in a hangar bay containing an Inquisitorius shuttle, watching as two other Inquisitors disembarked. One of them was a zabrak he didn’t know, but the other was Banee. 

She looked… healthy at least. It was hard to be sure because she wore a helmet that concealed her face, though it let her lekku hang loose at her back. The one Vader had amputated seemed to have healed well, pale with scar tissue but clean and smooth. Her companion must be Tenth Brother then. As far as Luke knew they were both still assigned to Project Harvester, so there must be a Force-sensitive child somewhere nearby. Why was the Force showing him this? How did it connect to his own mission? 

The vision rippled, jumping elsewhere. There was an unreal, dreamlike quality to everything that he was seeing - Luke didn’t know if this was future, present or past. He hoped it was the future, otherwise it wasn’t likely to be very helpful. He caught a flash of familiar faces; Kanan Jarrus, Ezra Bridger, Garazeb Orrelios… Fleeing, fighting, a swaddled child in thick, furred and muscled arms… 

Then the exterior of another hanger bay, blast-doors parting to reveal someone Luke had only seen briefly before, on the ISD- _ Sovereign  _ \- Ahsoka Tano. She ignited twin white-bladed lightsabers in a clear challenge. 

Luke’s stomach dropped. He hadn’t fought Tano himself but she’d held her own against Darth Vader. Banee and Tenth Brother didn’t have a chance against her. 

Perhaps the Dark Side wasn’t just showing him where he could go to find his quarry. Perhaps it was giving him an opportunity to save his friend’s life. 

\----

**3 BBY - Garel, Garel System, Lothal Sector, Outer Rim Territories**

Kanan sensed Ahsoka approaching before he saw her. Only a few weeks ago that would have made him tense up, but he was a lot less on edge now. Nothing else had happened after that brief brush with what he was still telling himself couldn’t have been the Dark Side. No matter what Luke had shown Ezra, it couldn’t be - he felt completely normal. He felt like himself. The Dark would leave  _ some  _ kind of stain. 

Garel was relatively safe for an Imperial-occupied world and they could all relax slightly here. There was no need to keep their Force-signatures locked up behind tight shields. Not that anyone was broadcasting it either, but it felt good to have the presence of other Jedi near - even if Ahsoka would say she was no Jedi. Kanan was used to having her and Leia around now, and Rex wasn’t so bad when you got to know him. Even the twitchyness he had around anything military had improved. 

“This is unexpected,” he said, coming down the  _ Ghost’s  _ ramp to meet her. “Though don’t get me wrong, it’s always good to see you.” Ahsoka was Leia’s main Master now with Obi-wan gone, but she didn’t let that get in the way of running vital missions for the Rebellion. Leia was pretty independent though, always happy to run katas and meditate in her absence. Sometimes Leia and Ahsoka even went off on a mission together. The options for who all of them worked with were much wider now that they had joined Phoenix Squadron. Of course the last time he'd seen Ahsoka was for the big sixteenth birthday party they'd held for Ezra and Leia. Rex had been there too, and Leia's parents joined via a scrambled holo connection. It had been... really good. A relief and a way to blow off steam despite the overbearing reminder of the Empire's tyranny that was Empire Day. 

Ahsoka’s answering smile didn’t quite make it to her eyes. Something was the matter.

“What kind of trouble are we in now?” Kanan asked. 

“What I have to say is Jedi business,” Ahsoka replied. 

“Then I guess I qualify.” 

“More than I do,” Ahsoka said, with a slight chuckle. “Let’s go inside.”

Kanan felt Ezra’s eyes on his back as they did so. The kid had been quiet since everything went down with the Inquisitors, which was understandable. It still gave Kanan a cold sweat whenever he thought of just how close they’d come to losing them. Ezra should feel proud though - he was the one who got them out of there in the end. 

Kanan wasn’t going to push him. Let Ezra have the space to figure things out for himself. He was a good kid, and their relationship was trusting enough that Kanan was sure he would come and find him if he needed to talk about it. 

He led Ahsoka to his cabin to talk, and she locked the door behind them. “Ever since we found out that the Inquisitors are based out of Mustafar, I’ve been monitoring transmissions from that system,” she said. “The Empire is careful, but I’ve got almost fifteen years experience slicing their systems. I really wish we knew this earlier though.” She looked away, her arms still crossed. Her body language was closed off, almost huddled. Kanan understood her guilt. 

“You couldn’t have known. What happened to Leia’s brother… it isn’t your fault.”

“I know, but…” She shook herself. “I managed to intercept some messages about Project Harvester.”

A shiver went down Kanan’s spine. “That’s what they call their kidnappings, right?”

Ahsoka nodded. “Before, all I had was that name, nothing more. Now though I have coordinates. Two separate locations that Inquisitors are being sent to, to make  _ retrievals _ .”

Kanan sensed her disgust at the cold term they used to disguise their crime. He felt it as well. “We’re going to do something about it, right?”

“Of course. I might not have been able to save Luke, but we can at least save  _ these  _ children. I’ll take Leia to investigate the first location.”

“And you want me to check the second.” Kanan nodded, feeling determination settle solid in his chest. “Done.”

“You should have Ezra join you,” Ahsoka said. 

Kanan smiled. Even if he hadn’t been able to sense Ezra through their training bond, he knew what his padawan was like. “He’s already briefed on the mission,” he said, going over to the door and hitting the release. It slid open and Ezra almost toppled into the room. 

“Hey!” Ezra said, limbs pinwheeling for a moment. He caught his balance and added, “You did say this was Jedi business.”

“Bring Zeb as well,” Ahskoa suggested. “He did well the last time you encountered Inquisitors.” 

“It’s not going to be the same ones again is it?” Ezra asked, with a fake-sounding laugh. “I mean, we’ll be fine if it is…” 

“I doubt it,” Ahsoka said. “They’re searching for us, remember, not for Force-sensitive children. Together you and Kanan are more than a match for whoever you might run into.”

Ezra nodded. “So… where are we going?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know some folks were hoping for Ezra to stay captured, and I promise that's going to come eventually but not for a while yet. There's a few more things that need to happen first.


	28. Chapter 28

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The mission to Takobo doesn't go as anybody planned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content warning for gore.

**3 BBY - Takobo, Takobo System, Calamari Sector, Outer Rim Territories**

Working from Luke’s vision, it had been easy to check the records and find out where Banee and Tenth Brother were heading. They had just submitted a report that they’d successfully retrieved a newborn from a transport shuttle leaving Chandel and their next destination was Takobo, a planet just over the sector border into Calamari space. A short hyperspace jump later and Cal was bringing their shuttle in to land in the same hangar where the other Inquisitors had parked. There hadn’t been time to signal ahead, but Third Brother did so now. 

“Third Brother!” Tenth Brother said over the comms. “This is a surprise.”

“We have information regarding potential Jedi activity in this area,” Cal said, which wasn’t too far off from the truth. “What is your current location? We should pool resources.”

The zabrak was visibly taken aback by that - it was obvious even on the shaky holo Beedee was projecting. “I wouldn’t have thought you wanted to share the glory with the likes of us,” he said. 

“This isn’t about sharing glory,” Cal told him. “These Jedi are dangerous. They’ve killed other Inquisitors already. I will explain more when we rendezvous.”

“As you command, Third Brother,” Tenth said. “We were just closing in on our target’s location, but I’m sure the child can wait.”

Luke couldn’t stop himself from asking. He leaned in so that Beedee’s holocam would pick him up. “What did you do with the other one?”

“Who is…” the zabrak started to ask, and then paused as someone spoke to him from off-camera. Even muffled, Luke recognised Banee’s voice. The surge of emotion that came along with it almost took him off guard. It had been so long since he saw her last. 

The zabrak gave him a wary look. “In our ship, Fifteenth Brother,” he said. “We didn’t expect this to take a long time.”

Luke nodded. “We should probably check on it,” he said to Cal. 

“I suppose so,” Cal replied. “Meet us here,” he told Tenth Brother, and cut the connection. 

\----

Zeb flattened his back against the wall and pushed Chopper away with one foot. Karabast, hadn’t that Jedi said the two Inquisitors from last time  _ wouldn’t  _ be here? There went any plan of blowing up the shuttle their pals came in on - and had they said something about a  _ baby _ ? The whole point of this mission was to  _ stop  _ them from kidnapping children - apparently they’d already succeeded. 

Chopper rammed into his foot insistently and Zeb swore at him. “Stop that you little bucket of bolts,” he whispered. “You’re going to get us both killed.”

Chopper beeped something sullen but settled down. Zeb risked another glance around the corner. The younger Inquisitor, Luke, had disappeared. After a brief moment he came into sight again, walking down the ramp of one of the shuttles with a bundle held in his arms. By the way it was wriggling, that had to be the kid. Zeb felt like he ought to be doing something, he just had no idea what. 

[ _ Tell crew  _ ] Chopper said. 

“Oh, yeah.” That was probably a good idea. If the first two Inquisitors were heading back here, then it would give Kanan and Ezra more time to find the other baby and get it away to safety. They wouldn’t be sticking around to try and fight  _ four  _ Inquisitors, although… they couldn’t just leave that kid with them. Zeb didn’t know all the details of what would happen to it, but he knew enough. 

He moved outside the hangar so that he wouldn’t be overheard, and hailed Kanan. “More Inquisitors just landed,” he said. “There are two already here, but they’re gonna join their buddies at the hanger. They don’t have their target yet - you have time.”

“ _ More  _ Inquisitors?” Kanan said. “Do you recognise them?”

Zeb growled to himself. “Yeah. The ones from last time. Third Brother and Fifteenth Brother.”

Kanan didn’t swear, but the long silence told Zeb he  _ wanted  _ to. “We found the child’s mother,” he said eventually. “She’s Ithorian. She was still alive, though they weren’t gentle with her. She told us she gave her son to the family droid and instructed it to wander the city at random. If we can find it…”

“More eyes will help,” Zeb said. “I’m not gonna get anything done here.” 

“Be careful,” Kanan warned him. “You’re recognisable.” 

“I know how to stay safe.” Zeb cut the connection and looked down at Chopper. “You wanna stay here, keep an optic on them?” he suggested. “Keep out of sight, record what you can, let us know if they start to move again.”

Chopper popped out a manipulator arm and gave a salute. Zeb didn’t trust him to be responsible, but he was good at getting out of trouble after he managed to get himself into it first. 

“All right. Don’t frag things up for us.”

[ _ As if.  _ ] Chopper replied. 

Time to go look for a baby. 

\----

**3 BBY - Takobo, Takobo System, Calamari Sector, Outer Rim Territories**

Banee’s heart was in her mouth for the whole walk. Luke was here. It had been months since the last time they saw each other, long months of uncomfortable travel and horrible work that she hated with every fibre of her being. Every child they took, from newborns to sullen teenagers, reminded her of herself, of Luke, of poor, dead Zar. Every night it took her what felt like hours to get to sleep as she wondered how she could live with herself - then she would remember that the alternative was pain and death, and that this was about survival. 

It wasn’t in  _ her  _ power to change it. If she didn’t do it, someone else would. There would be no point in refusing, resisting - and it might not be forever. Luke could change things, was  _ going  _ to change things. It turned out that Inquisitors gossipped, and rumours about ‘Fifteenth Brother’ spread fast. Darth Vader himself was training him, he had challenged Eighth Brother and won, had challenged Second Sister and lost, and both times nobody had died. That in itself was apparently strange enough. By rights, Luke should have killed Eighth Brother and taken his place and title. Instead he seemed to be content to remain Fifteenth Brother. 

It made sense to Banee. Luke had a good heart like that, and he had hated every time one of the other trainees died on Arkanis, but to other Inquisitors who didn’t know him it was a startling and suspicious lack of ambition. Tenth Brother had joked Luke wasn’t satisfied to be Eighth and wanted to move straight into the Grand Inquisitor’s position, or maybe Darth Vader’s. 

That joke had been less funny after the Grand Inquisitor died. That had been Jedi though, not Luke. Nobody knew who was going to take the pau’an’s place either, between Second Brother and Second Sister. The result of that dominance fight was eagerly awaited. 

Banee followed Tenth Brother into the hangar and stopped in her tracks when she saw Luke waiting for her. He was cradling the child they had picked up a few days ago, but when he looked up and spotted her he stopped paying it any attention. Banee realised the faceplate of her helmet was still down and triggered it to open. Luke’s smile was warm and welcoming, and his eyes were… no longer the blue she remembered. Instead they were pure, metallic gold. Sith gold. 

She couldn’t show the kind of response she wanted to, couldn't appear too happy. Tenth and Third Brothers were here watching them, and while Luke could survive shows of apparent weakness, she couldn’t. Instead she went over to stand next to them, pretending to check the child over while she bumped her arm against his side. He nudged her back, and she felt his shields part just enough to send a tendril of pleased warmth her way. 

“So what’s all this about?” Tenth Brother demanded. He eyed Luke warily, but directed his questions to Third Brother. 

“There are Jedi coming here,” Third said. “If they haven’t made planetfall already, they will soon. Our information suggests there will be four of them; the Master and Padawan pair that killed the Grand Inquisitor, and Ahsoka Tano with her padawan.” 

“Tano.” Tenth’s ochre skin paled slightly. “She would be bad enough on her own.”

Third nodded. “You see why I don’t much care about whether we end up sharing the glory.”

Banee wasn’t exactly pleased to hear any of this either. After the Grand Inquisitor died, the files about his killers circulated widely through the ranks of the Inquisitorius and the gossip mill went into overdrive with a mixture of anticipation, braggadocio and a faint undercurrent of fear. The status that would come to someone who killed Kanan Jarrus or even Bridger would be significant, but no-one was actually that sure they could really beat them in a fair fight. The Grand Inquisitor couldn’t, and he was by definition superior to every other Inquisitor. 

Jarrus’ apparent prowess made some sense. The Grand Inquisitor had identified him as Caleb Dume, the padawan of Depa Billaba, who had been a member of the Jedi Council and trained by Mace Windu himself. It was an impressive lineage. It didn’t appear that Jarrus used vaapad, juyo’s lighter variant, but he obviously didn’t need to. 

Tenth Brother gave Third a suspicious glare. “Your plan doesn’t happen to involve using the two of us as a distraction now does it?” he asked, gesturing to himself and Banee. Banee hadn’t even thought of that, and she glanced at Luke. Surely he wouldn’t let… but it wasn’t his choice, was it? 

Third Brother shook his head. “We need to work together, not let ourselves be picked off one by one.” Banee relaxed. It sounded like he was telling the truth, and Luke hadn’t reacted to Tenth’s suggestion badly either. “The two pairs of Jedi seem to be travelling separately, though Jarrus and Bridger have some of the other members of the Spectre cell with them. Fifteenth Brother will pick up their trail if any of them are here yet, and hopefully we can deal with the first pair before their backup arrives.”

Tenth Brother brightened. “Four against two is much better odds.”

“Let’s not waste any more time,” Third Brother said. “Fifteenth Brother?”

Luke nodded, and passed the baby back to Banee. It wriggled as she took it, starting to cry. Tenth shot her a baleful glare; zabrak hearing was sensitive. “Shut that thing up,” he ordered. 

Banee tried rocking the child, though really she had no idea what she was doing. This was the first time they were picking up children quite this young. The Inquisitorius usually left them to get through the inconvenient and messy stages of their development first. She had wondered about the change, but… perhaps it was due to these Jedi coming to light. Whoever was in charge of Project Harvester might be worried the Jedi would get there before them. 

The baby kept crying. Banee cursed under her breath. Luke gave her a sympathetic look, and she felt him reaching out to the child. Whatever he was doing worked; it settled down again and blinked sleepily. 

Luke knelt on the hard duracrete of the hangar and closed his eyes. She felt the Dark Side thicken around him as he began to call its power to him, and then his presence expanded outwards as he reached past his shields to begin his search. It was a sharp surge like a tidal wave, a ripple that almost knocked the breath out of her. Not for the first time, she had the sensation of standing in the presence of something much larger than she was, some vast, predatory beast that could devour her whole if it had the fancy. 

Luke wouldn’t do that though. They were friends. The predator meant her no harm. 

Her conscious self knew that, but her instincts didn’t. She told herself to stop being ridiculous. Banee glanced at Tenth Brother, and saw him trembling slightly. Yeah,  _ he  _ didn’t have that reassurance. 

After several long moments, there was a shift in the diffused awareness that Luke had spread out to a point far beyond where Banee had lost track of it. It snapped towards a certain location off in the distance like a laser-sight. The idea of having all that attention directed at you wasn’t a pleasant one - Banee wondered how the Jedi could miss it. Perhaps it was a lot less obvious in the Light than the Dark. 

“They’re here,” Luke said. “They’re moving in the streets around the residential district - they must be looking for the other baby.”

“If they find it, they’ll try to run,” Third said. “We need to move.”

\----

Even if they couldn’t react too much to each other, seeing Banee again was still wonderful. A powerful warmth swept out through Luke’s body and he felt the Dark Side respond with that by-now familiar sense of pack, of family, of togetherness. As he threw his awareness out in the search for the rebels the Force responded to him with fierce joy, the eager hunting urge of a predator. 

Ninth Sister thought that the Inquisitorius was made better by adding stronger members to its numbers, but for her the process was adversarial. It was winnowing out the weak, survival of the fittest. That was part of the Dark, Luke could feel that was true, but it wasn’t all of it. Ninth Sister couldn’t see that sometimes friends made you stronger, that they could prop each other up or make something together that was more than the sum of its parts. That was what the Inquisitors should be to each other. 

Of course this part of the Dark, the part that cared about strength in numbers, in predators hunting as a pack, couldn’t work with the Sith. There were only two Sith - or there were only two  _ now. _ The holocron he’d accidentally opened claimed it hadn’t always been that way. The way things currently worked had seemed to horrify the ancient Sith. 

Perhaps the old ways needed to come back - not that Luke knew anything at all really about what they were. Still, ambition stirred vaguely inside him. There were many things that he wanted to change - why shouldn’t this be one too?

None of these questions were relevant right now. He had fixed on his quarry, direction and distance, and he had a mission. 

Cal took point as they moved out, setting their pace at a fast walk. Their uniforms got enough wary looks as it was without causing a panic by running around - that would only alert the rebels. Luke indicated turns with sharp hand gestures. By now Orrelios had the ithorian child, but he wasn’t going to get far with it. The baby was a bright glowing beacon in Luke’s mind, easy to follow. 

They turned a final corner to see the tall lasat at the intersection ahead. Naturally he ran as soon as he spotted them, faster than a human on those long, digitigrade legs. Of course Cal and Luke were not standard humans. The Force gave them the speed to keep up with him and even start to gain ground. The chase wound through several city blocks before Orrelios ducked into one of the buildings. An apartment complex. If he hoped to lose them in there he was going to be disappointed. 

“Stay here,” Cal ordered Tenth Brother as they drew level with the main door. “Make sure he doesn’t slip out this way, and no others get in.” He let Beedee down off his back and pointed at the droid. “Help him keep watch; you’re my eyes out here alright?”

Beedee chirped agreement. 

The three of them headed inside. As Luke brushed past Tenth Brother he caught the hint of fear. It distracted him because there was no reason any of them should be afraid. They had Garazeb cornered, and they would be ready to back him up if any of the other Jedi arrived. Was he worried they would fail their mission? With four Inquisitors, that seemed unlikely. 

No, that wasn’t it. This fear had a direction, a particular resonance. 

Luke realised that the zabrak was afraid of  _ him _ . 

Why? Hadn’t Cal said enough to reassure him about their intentions already? The temptation to try and find a chink in his shields and see what was at the root of this was strong, but there wasn’t time for that kind of thing. Besides, Luke did have  _ some  _ respect for privacy and Tenth Brother was a servant of the Empire. He hadn’t done anything that justified over-riding that. 

“Fifteenth Brother?” Cal asked. Luke snapped back to himself and reached for his sense of their targets again. 

“Upstairs,” he said, then paused. Something new had pinged in the Force. “Wait. Jarrus and Bridger are closer than I thought. They must be shielding their signatures better than last time. They’re going to be here in a few minutes.”

Cal frowned. “Change of plans then. We can’t leave them for Tenth Brother to deal with alone.”

“Orrelios isn’t moving,” Luke said. “He’s waiting for them.”

Cal started to turn to go back outside, then paused. “If the Jedi see us all, they won’t show themselves,” he said. 

Luke sensed a small flare of alarm from Banee, possibly at the idea of leaving Tenth out there alone. “They’re also not going to draw attention to themselves by starting a duel in the middle of a busy street,” she said. 

Cal nodded, and activated his commlink. “Tenth Brother, come join us.”

There was a pause. “I assume there’s a good reason for jerking me around like this,” the zabrak said. 

“The Jedi are near.” 

The door hissed open, and Tenth Brother joined them in the lobby. Luke risked a brief glance at the streets outside, but he saw nothing. The Jedi felt diffuse in the Force; he couldn’t pin them down exactly. 

“What now?” Tenth asked. 

“We wait,” Cal replied. He had switched to viewing the feed from Beedee’s camera on his holo-emitter. “Don’t engage, little guy,” he muttered into his comm. “Let them come to us.”

There was a flash of movement from the corner. Beedee zoomed in on it, but even on playback it was just a smear of motion that might have been a face. The droid turned in the opposite direction and trotted a little way down the street, purposefully leaving his back wide open. The four of them readied themselves, and were quickly rewarded by running footsteps rapidly approaching the door. 

It hissed open. Two very surprised Jedi came to a sudden halt as four lightsabers pointed at them. 

“Care to surrender  _ this  _ time?” Cal asked. 

\----

Zeb was starting to get worried, and it wasn’t just because the kriffing baby wouldn’t stop crying. He knew the Inquisitors saw him go in here so they should be looking for him, but he hadn’t seen any sign of them once he got inside the building. He had commed Kanan and Ezra with his location and they should be on their way, but he hadn’t heard anything back. Four Inquisitors was a lot. He knew Kanan was more than capable of dealing with one or two of them, but four? 

This situation just got worse and worse. 

“Come on,” he said, bouncing the kid up and down in his arms. “Please shut up.” It didn’t help. 

He couldn’t stay here much longer. His friends might be in trouble. If his help was the one thing that could have tipped a fight in their favour and he wasn’t there because he was holed up in some random apartment hiding he would never forgive himself. He tucked the baby into the crook of one arm and slid the door open, peering out into the corridor. Nobody around. 

Kanan’s magic powers would be handy right now.  _ He  _ would be able to tell if there was an Inquisitor hiding around the corner. 

Zeb padded along the corridor on silent feet and headed for the stairwell. Lots of turns and cramped quarters would help him more than an Inquisitor - the less space they had to swing those plasma blades of theirs the better. The damn kid kept fussing at him the closer to ground level he got, wriggling like it was trying to get away. Finally he sat down on the stairs, put the kid in his lap, reached down for one of the legs of his jumpsuit and tore it from the bottom to somewhere mid-thigh. His claws did the work of slicing it around the circumference after that, and he had enough material to fashion some kind of sling to hold the baby across his chest. 

It seemed to like being swaddled like that - it reached its stubby little arms out to hug onto him and Zeb couldn’t help feeling just a little bit affectionate towards the thing. It couldn’t help that the Inquisitors wanted it. 

Kid secured, he started moving again. The close physical contact had calmed it down significantly, and it just gave little snuffling whimpers now and then, letting him focus properly on stealth. Lasat were naturally good at that, part of coming from a carnivorous, predatory species - not to mention it was part of basic training for all members of the Honour Guard. There was a particular way of thinking that helped with that - a mental focus on being placid and still yet coiled ready for action. He reached ground level without running into any more problems, and was making for the door when he overheard the noise of conversation. He paused and pressed an ear to the door separating him from the main lobby. 

“How can you do this to these children?” Karabast, that was Ezra’s voice. Zeb grit his teeth and wondered what the quietest way of getting the door open was. 

“Force-sensitive children need to be trained,” another voice said. Zeb didn’t know that one, but he hadn’t heard any of the Inquisitors actually speak. It had to be them though. “They’re a danger to themselves and others if left alone.”

“That’s not true,” Ezra replied. “I never hurt anybody growing up!”

“The occasional exception does not make the rule,” the same person replied. Were all four of them out there? Had to be. 

There wasn’t much choice except to go for it. Even if they didn’t notice the sound of the door opening, the baby’s noises would alert them. He had to go in hard and fast and hope that would be enough. He didn’t dare use his bo-rifle in such an enclosed space either, not when the shots could be deflected back at him or into Kanan or Ezra or even the kid. 

He hit the door release. It hissed open and he had a split second to take in the scene in front of him. Kanan and Ezra were in the centre of the room minus their lightsabers, which were now being held by one of the - yup - four Inquisitors surrounding them. It was all the ones he’d seen in the hangar before. They were all looking inwards and hadn’t noticed him yet, so he had one, brief chance to do something. 

He wasn’t sure which one was the biggest threat. The way the Jedi talked about him Luke would be, but he was still a kid himself, Ezra’s age. What had Ezra said though, about facing him on the Star Destroyer? He got upset about the thought that the stormtroopers were going to die along with the ship? If he cared that much about stormtroopers, then he probably cared even more about his Inquisitor friends. Get one of them down, he might prioritise that over giving chase. 

It was a quick decision, and Zeb was already moving. The zabrak guy was the closest to him, and looked to be the one who was having the argument with Ezra. Zeb covered the distance between them in a couple of long strides, grabbed the Inquisitor in a headlock and wrenched with a powerful burst of lasat strength. 

The loud cracking noise turned even his stomach. The zabrak went limp in his arms and Zeb let him drop. The other Inquisitors were already turning towards him, red blades igniting, faces twisted with rage. The man wasn’t dead, not yet. Zabraks were tough, and their semi-distributed nervous system meant he might still survive if someone got him medical attention immediately. 

“Run!” Zeb yelled to Kanan and Ezra, diving towards the twi'lek who had their lightsabers. Red blades darted towards him and he dodged - a hot line of pain rippled along his back with the smell of burning, but he could still move so it couldn't be so bad. The twi'lek had dropped Ezra's lightsaber so she could draw her own, but that was just enough of a delay. Zeb slid out his claws, kicked her wrist to send her blade wide before she could finish raising it into guard, grabbed at Kanan’s saber with one hand and raked her across the neck with the other. He felt skin tear and blood splash across his fur. Somewhere he felt air ripple in the familiar false-wind of a Force push - it must be from the Jedi because there was a brief pause in the Inquisitors' attacks.

The twi'lek cried out and stumbled backwards, dropping her weapon so that she could clutch her throat. The room was a tangle of movement - Zeb darted out of the way of more attacks running purely on instinct, spinning low so he could swipe up the lightsabers on the floor. There was another flash of agony against his thigh but he was already braced on all fours and he powered towards the door in long, leaping bounds forcing his leg not to buckle underneath him through sheer willpower. The kid bundled tight to his chest swung and screamed but didn't fall free. Kanan and Ezra were already at the door and then all three of them were outside in the light. 

Something cracked through the air where Zeb had just been standing with a bright blue-green flash. Ozone stung at his nose and his fur stood up on end, but he didn’t have time to wonder what the kriff that had been as he broke into as much of a sprint as was possible. At least he still  _ had _ his leg. He tossed Kanan and Ezra their sabers and found himself still holding the twi'lek’s. Huh. That might come in handy. 

“Do you have the child?” Kanan shouted as people backed away from their headlong flight. 

“Got them right here,” Zeb replied, patting the bundle on his front. 

“Was that  _ lightning _ ?” Ezra asked, looking over his shoulder. 

Kanan looked grim. “Later. How close behind us are they?”

Zeb risked looking back as well. There was no trace of pursuit to be seen. He grinned, slowed down, and tried not to fall over as he realised just how much pain he was in. “I think we’re in the clear.”

\----

_ Shavit! How had they missed the lasat?  _ Third Brother thought as Fifteenth Sister dropped. All of his attention had been on the two Jedi and making sure they didn’t try anything with the Force to make any escape attempts - in the few brief seconds in which all this happened it was hard to get his head in the game and act rather than react. He reached for the Dark but the Force was in chaos, a maelstrom that whipped itself out of his grasp the moment he reached for it. His lightsaber was lit and in his hand, but Orrelios dodged their attacks with only minor injuries and was out the door before he could use the Force to grab and stop him. 

Third Brother was about to give chase when he felt the Dark condense into a single point of hate behind him. He ducked. 

Lightning split the air overhead, crackling out through the open doorway and lancing into the street beyond. Third Brother heard screams and the noise of people starting to run, but he didn’t think it had hit its intended target. 

“Come on,” he said, turning to Fifteenth Brother. “We can still…”

He stopped. Fifteenth Brother wasn’t listening to him. He was crouched down by Fifteenth Sister, helping her hold the gashes in her neck closed. Her breathing was sharp and fast and shallow, and her eyes were glazed with panic.  _ His  _ breathing however was juddering and harsh with anger. He was the one whipping the Dark up into this whirlwind fury, bending every part of it to the intent of his will. There was little of it left over for Third and the others unless they too were swept up in Fifteenth Brother’s desires - Third had heard Vader could do something like this but he had never seen it. 

The rasp of each breath through the Sithling’s throat didn’t sound human. It was the growl of some great beast. 

Third Brother glanced over at Tenth. The zabrak’s chest still rose and fell in halting jerks, but he wouldn’t last long. Fifteenth Brother didn’t seem to be sparing  _ him  _ any attention, and this depth of emotion… He and Fifteenth Sister had come out of Arkanis at the same time. They should have been competition, should have hated one another to the core because that was what the place did, pitting children against each other. 

They shouldn’t be friends, and yet… 

He didn’t want to go over there, but he needed to. He had to see how bad the damage was and if they could afford to move Fifteenth Sister. He could call medical assistance here but the longer the delay the longer the Jedi would have to escape. They would have no prisoners and only one of the children and very little to show for this whole mission. He should be ordering Fifteenth Brother to go with him,  _ now _ , get after them. The injuries of other Inquisitors were no excuse for failure. That obviously wasn’t going to happen though.

Beedee stuck his head through the doorway and chirped. Third Brother beckoned him over. A stim-pack might help slow the bleeding but it wasn’t going to be enough for either of the injured. “Did you see which way they went?” he asked.

[ _ Towards the spaceport  _ ] Beedee replied. 

They didn’t have much time. Part of Third Brother wanted to leave, to chase after the Jedi on his own, but there was still Tano to consider. He was out of options. 

Third Brother sighed. “Can you try and follow them?” he asked Beedee. The droid was faster than he looked, and was easy to overlook in a busy city like this. “They may say something we can use if they think they’ve gotten away.”

Beedee nodded, and disappeared off again at high speed. 

Third Brother commed the local garrison with his security code and ordered them to converge on the hangars. It probably wouldn’t be enough, but at least it would look as though he had tried. Then he cautiously edged over to the two teenagers. 

The Dark was burning, something strange about it that Third Brother didn’t recognise. He was close enough now to see Fifteenth Brother holding his hand against the wound and he could see the extent of it - three thick gashes across her throat and just above the clavicle, down through skin and fat and muscle to the shining cartilage of her larynx. She should have been near bleeding out, but there was surprisingly little blood at all. Even as he watched it was only a trickle running down her neck. 

No. Not down. Back up and in. 

A shudder went down Third Brother’s spine. Something about the sight felt desperately wrong, even more so than the grim reality of that horrendous mauling. Fifteenth Brother’s eyes were practically glowing gold. No, they  _ were  _ glowing. This was something he was doing. 

Fifteenth Sister took another gasping breath, and then pushed the Sithling’s hand away. She sat up and coughed. The wounds were still raw and open and the lacerated muscles rippled with the movement of her head and the heave of her ribs, but there was no blood. 

“What… what did you do?” she asked, her voice a whisper. 

“I don’t know.” Fifteenth Brother leaned back on his heels. He blinked, finally seeming to see the injury in front of him for the first time, and winced. “It… it’s not going to kill you anymore.” 

She reached up towards her neck and jerked her hand away with a wince at the touch of skin against her own open flesh. “It… doesn’t hurt as much as it should.”

“That’s a good thing, isn’t it?” 

Third Brother was less sure. The Jedi Order had tales about the powers of the Sith of old, their twisted alchemy that they used to warp flesh and create monsters. Had Fifteenth Brother learned this from Vader? He seemed too unsure of himself for that to be the case. 

Fifteenth Sister looked towards Tenth Brother. “Can you do anything for him?” she asked.

“Do you want me to?” 

She hesitated, then nodded. “He treated me better than he could have,” she said. It wasn’t exactly a high bar, Third thought, but he was still slightly relieved to hear it himself. 

Fifteenth Brother did not look entirely convinced, but he moved over to the zabrak’s near-motionless body anyway. His eyes flickered half-closed, and the Dark still hovering around him protectively focused in on Tenth Brother. Third took the opportunity to make another call, for medical assistance this time. Even if the Sithling managed another miracle, neither of the other Inquisitors would be fit to fight. They were stuck here until help came.

“I don’t know what I did for you,” Fifteenth Brother said. He reached out and put one hand on Tenth’s neck, the other on his chest. “I’ll try. I don’t know if it’ll work.”

Third Brother felt him reach  _ in _ , tendrils of the Force winding inside Tenth’s body where the boy’s hands were resting. The zabrak’s uneven breathing hitched, then eased into something more rhythmic. 

Tenth didn’t know what to make of any of this, but this felt like one more piece of the puzzle that was Fifteenth Brother. He cared about other Inquisitors, enough to feel fury on their behalf, enough to put aside his mission for them, to prioritise them even when Third was watching. He must know that Third ought to put the blame for their current failure on him - it was even the truth - but he didn’t  _ want  _ to do that. He… He agreed. This had been the right thing to do. 

They would both take responsibility for the consequences of this, and after that… perhaps Third needed to follow Merrin’s advice and extend some trust. 

\----

Ezra, Kanan and Zeb continued to push themselves at as fast a pace as possible until it was clear that they really weren't being chased. Zeb's limp was getting worse, and even slowing to a walk rather than a jog didn't seem to help it much. They were still too obviously suspicious for comfort though. Even if Zeb hadn't been clearly injured, little Pipey was wailing almost constantly and there was blood matted into Zeb’s fur that hadn't come from the long cauterised cuts on his back and thigh. It coated his claws and part of his fingers, and a spray of it had tracked over his forearm, face and chest - though that wasn’t as noticeable. 

Zeb saw him looking and glanced down. “Oh, yeah,” he said, sounding sheepish, and started to lick his hand clean. 

Ezra was trying not to think about what he’d done. Zeb had killed people in front of him before but never like that. Never so brutal and… personal. Shooting someone with a blaster or bo-rifle felt different to getting up close, to using his hands. Although they did get into close combat with stormtroopers sometimes, they were so bundled up in armour that it was much easier to choose to forget that there were people inside. When Zeb slammed their heads into a wall or into each other Ezra didn’t have to think about what it meant when they went down and didn’t get back up again. If a lasat’s punch could crack a skull through plasteel, what would it do to someone who  _ wasn’t  _ wearing a helmet? 

“Pass the kid to Ezra,” Kanan said. “He should be able to calm him down.”

“Me?” Ezra said, startled out of his thoughts. “I don’t know anything about babies.”

“It’s all about making connections,” Kanan told him with a small smile. “He’s afraid, and no wonder. He can sense the emotions of those around him.” 

Zeb looked faintly guilty. He untied the sling holding Pipey and held him out for Ezra to take. Ezra accepted the squirming ithorian gingerly. “I don’t even know how to hold him,” he protested. 

“Calm down,” Kanan said. “It’s easier than you think. If you get stressed out, so will he.” He adjusted Ezra’s grip with sure hands. “Here.” 

Pipey was still wriggling and crying a little, but at least Ezra wasn’t afraid he was going to drop him anymore. He took a deep breath to centre himself, and reached out with the Force. The baby was bright and close and grabbed onto his Force presence as eagerly and automatically as a child grabbing onto a waving finger. “Oh!” Ezra said, amazed. Kanan smiled at him. “Don’t worry Pipey,” Ezra told the baby. “We’ll make sure you’re safe with us on Garel.”

They made it back to the hangar without running into any problems, at least at first. As the blast doors slid open Ezra heard a commotion approaching from behind them - turning he saw what had to be the entire local garrison of stormtroopers. 

“Time to go,” Kanan said, ushering them all inside. 

Chopper was waiting by the  _ Phantom _ , but he wasn’t alone. Ahsoka and Leia were standing next to him, apparently having an argument with the droid about the suspiciously baby-shaped bundle he was holding away from them over his head. They all looked round as Ezra and the others entered, and Leia took the opportunity to snatch the baby away from Chopper. 

“You managed to get the other child?” Ahsoka asked. 

“He’s here,” Ezra replied, holding Pipey up. 

“Tell me about it once we’re off-planet,” she said, nodding to the  _ Phantom _ . 

“Yeah,” Kanan said. “There are things you need to know.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *jazz hands* It's Sith Alchemy. 
> 
> My original plan for this chapter was to have Luke fight/confront Ahsoka, it just... didn't turn out that way when I wrote it. Sometimes a large tiger-monkey-man comes out of nowhere to wreck shit...


	29. Chapter 29

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Challenging expectations brings on a variety of consequences.

**3 BBY - Takobo, Takobo System, Calamari Sector, Outer Rim Territories**

Once the medics finally arrived and took charge of the two injured Inquisitors, Third Brother went to go and find Beedee and check on their shuttle. The garrison commander had already pinged a report to his comm that the rebels had in fact escaped, their ship taking off just as the stormtroopers arrived. It was frustrating but not unexpected. What  _ was  _ unexpected was the state of both Inquisitorius shuttles. Someone had blown them up - they were still on fire when he got there. It had to be the rebels, and they must have taken the first child with them before they did this. 

So in fact they were down two Force-sensitive children as well as their quarry. This was not looking good for them. 

Third Brother left the shuttles burning and called it in. Since Fifteenth Brother had made it very clear he had no intention of leaving his friend while she was injured, they would be here a few days until Fifteenth Sister and Tenth Brother were well enough to travel, so the time it would take to have the two craft repaired or replaced wouldn’t even matter. Perhaps at least Beedee would have something for him. 

[ _ Garel  _ ] the droid said, when he found him. [  _ The padawan said they were living on Garel  _ ].

“That’s under firm Imperial control,” Third Brother said, frowning. “Are you sure?”

Beedee nodded, and played back an audio clip. Sure enough, Bridger promised the child it would be safe “with them on Garel”. Third sighed with relief. At least this wasn’t completely a bust, and it was even possible that this would lead them to all of Phoenix Squadron, not just Spectre. That might take the sting out of their failure and ward off any severe punishment. 

He headed back to the medcentre. 

\----

Luke sat by Banee’s bed and watched the medical droid prod at her wounds. Whatever he had done to them was holding, because they hadn’t started bleeding again, but it was clearly confusing the droid who was meant to be treating her. Tenth Brother had already been whisked away for surgery, but Luke didn’t care what happened to him anywhere near as much as he did Banee. He hadn't done anything to heal him in the same way, just kept him breathing using the Force to push air in and out of his lungs enough to keep him alive. 

This was his fault. He should have sensed Orrelios coming. He’d been the one tracking the lasat and the baby, but the Jedi had been there in front of him and he had gotten… distracted. That was the only possible explanation, although... This wasn't the first time that Orrelios had flown under the radar. It had been the same on the medical station - Luke should have felt him waiting there in the hangar before they entered. He hadn't. Why was that? The lasat didn't  _ feel _ like he was Force-sensitive. 

It didn't matter. Working that out wouldn't change what had happened. Luke should have been fast enough with the Force flowing through him to react in time. He should have stopped this. 

At least no one had actually died. At least that. 

“Can’t you just put some bacta spray on it?” Banee said to the droid, reaching the end of her patience for being poked. 

“The wounds must be sealed,” it replied. 

“Then do that!”

The droid clicked, then used a manipulator arm to bring the edges of one of the lacerations together. Another arm extruded thick, sticky bacta gel over the top. It kept hold of the cut for about a minute, then let go. 

Instead of staying sealed the wound immediately sprang apart again. The bacta ran down her neck, inexplicably liquid. The med-droid’s optics cycled in and out. “I do not understand,” it said, rather plaintive. 

“None of us do.” Banee’s frustration snapped in the Force. 

“I’m sorry,” Luke said. 

“You saved my life Luke,” Banee told him. “Don’t apologise for that.”

“Isn’t there anything else you could do?” Luke asked the droid. 

“I could try manual sealing,” it replied. “It is a crude method.”

“As long as it works…”

The droid rotated the tools that were its hands to a different configuration. Once again it held Banee’s wound together but this time it pressed the other device against the skin with a loud snap. Banee flinched slightly - when the droid took its hand away a short bit of metal was literally stapling the cut closed. The droid continued down the line of the injury, and Banee soon stopped reacting. She was as used to pain as Luke. 

At least this looked like it was working. Once the med-droid finished, it wrapped Banee’s neck up in a bacta bandage, although it was clearly sceptical that would do much more than keep it clean. 

“What now?” Banee asked. 

“I guess we wait to hear about Tenth Brother,” Luke said. “Do you… would you tell me what’s happened since we saw each other last?”

“Of course,” Banee said. “It hasn’t been as interesting as what  _ you’ve  _ been getting up to though.”

Luke sat and listened to her talk with a slightly strained, scratchy voice and tried not to wonder if he had messed up that healing very badly. 

\----

**3 BBY - Shuttle** **_Phantom_ ** **, en route to Garel, Lothal Sector, Outer Rim Territories**

“Luke and this Third Brother were there as well?” Ahsoka asked. That was worrying. The whole reason she’d decided to act on her information was because there was no reason for those two to be involved. 

Kanan nodded, his expression grim. “They had us cornered. Ezra and I would both have been captured if Zeb hadn’t rescued us.”

“It seems like you’re building a reputation for that,” Ahsoka said to Zeb. The lasat was leaning forwards in his seat as Chopper cut his jumpsuit away around his injury. Ahsoka knew lightsaber wounds when she saw them, and they could be nasty in unexpected ways. Zeb's wounds were worse than they looked, though adrenaline had kept him going this long. The lightsaber had caught him to the right of his spine and along the outer length of his thigh, slicing through the synthleather, burning fur, parting skin and cooking fat and muscle below with residual heat. The damage would keep building up the longer they went without treatment until they cooled down naturally - thankfully the  _ Phantom _ had a well-stocked med-kit.

Zeb looked away with a mixture of pleasure and embarrassment. “Just lucky I guess.”

“Not luck, but the Force.” Ahsoka had to keep on believing that, even in dark times like these. What else was there to trust in? She glanced at Leia, knowing it must be hard for her to hear them speak about her brother like this. Leia continued to believe there was good in him, but the evidence was continuing to pile up against that. Leia sat there silently watching their conversation, a faint line between her brows the only sign of inner conflict. 

“I sense that isn’t the only thing you wanted me to know,” Ahsoka said.

Zeb frowned - winced as Chopper slapped a bacta pad over the top of his wound - and said, “I guess it’s maybe about that weird lightning the kid tossed at me as we were running for it? Kanan told Ezra he would explain it later, and it’s not something  _ I  _ ever knew you Force guys could do.”

Ahsoka’s heart sank. There was only one thing that could be, although she wouldn't have dreamed Luke would be advanced enough in the arts of the Sith to use the technique yet. Apparently his appearance at Vader’s side above Mustafar hadn’t been a fluke. 

Did Anakin know he was his son? How could he  _ not  _ know? Yet he wasn’t Anakin, was he, but Vader. Vader wouldn’t care. If he did feel anything for his own child it would surely only be some sick satisfaction at corrupting the son of the Chosen One to the Dark Side. He would see the boy’s potential and want to use it for his own gains. That was the nature of the Sith. 

The only possible good thing about this was that if Vader thought he had found his lost child, he would never think to look for Leia. He didn’t know about the twins, Obi-wan had been certain about that. 

She had been silent too long. Kanan was the one to speak instead, giving her a sympathetic look. He didn’t know the full reasons this was affecting her so much, she thought with a stab of guilt, but he was trying to make things better for her anyway. 

“It’s called Sith Lightning,” he said. “The name’s a clue.” 

“So… it’s bad,” Ezra said. “Really bad.”

“Only someone truly powerful in the Dark Side can use it,” Ahsoka said, finding her voice. “Count Dooku - Darth Tyrannus - could, during the war. The Emperor certainly can. I never saw it from Maul or Ventress or any of the other Darksiders I’ve encountered though.”

Leia’s small frown deepened. “What makes it so evil?” she asked. 

“I didn’t say it was evil, just powerful,” Ahsoka replied. She understood why Leia was angry at them, and she understood the urge to defend her brother, but she was refusing to see what was in front of her own eyes and that was dangerous. “There’s even a Light Side version of the technique, but I think we both know that wasn’t what Luke was using.”

“So… Kanan and I could learn how to shoot lightning out of our fingers too?” Ezra asked, with a dangerously eager gleam in his eye. 

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Zeb said, getting in before Ahsoka could. 

“It isn’t that easy anyway,” she added. “The only Jedi I ever knew could do it was Master Plo Koon, and he never had a chance to teach it to anyone.” She didn’t have to say why. 

“Yet another thing we have to watch out for with these guys,” Zeb grumbled. “That’s just great.”

“So how did you escape?” Leia asked. “You said Zeb got the drop on them, but then what?”

Ezra made a face. “It was… kind of gory.”

Another guilty look from Zeb. “Had to be done,” he said. “Wasn’t gonna get you out any other way.”

Kanan was frowning too, as though he was just thinking over the implications of all this for the first time. “It is strange that they didn’t give chase.”

“Details, please,” Ahsoka said. 

Zeb started to straighten up in his seat, then collapsed back down with a bitten-out curse as his muscles refused to work. He rested his head against the table, breathing hard, then turned one hand palm up and slid out his claws. They were longer and sharper when extended than she had realised, and there was a faint red-brown stain crusted underneath them. “I went for the two Inquisitors we didn’t know," Zeb said, voice rough with pain. "Thought I could get the drop on them better. Broke the zabrak’s neck and sliced the twi’lek open. I thought, after the way this Luke guy reacted to stormtroopers being in danger before he would stick around to help injured friends rather than go after us.”

Ahsoka was used to the realities of war, so the details didn’t particularly turn her stomach, but she saw Leia’s mouth harden to a firm line, her jaw clenched and twitching. “That was cruel,” Leia said. 

Zeb shrugged. “It worked. We saved two kids who’d have been Inquisitors otherwise. I don’t  _ like  _ doing that kind of shavit, but it was them or us.”

"It  _ shouldn't _ have worked," Ahsoka said, feeling a stirring unease. "Sith, those who use the Dark Side... They don't care about other people. They're self-centred and selfish - that's the effect of the Dark Side on them. Luke should have come after you anyway."

"That's my point," Leia cut in. “If he cares about other people like that, can’t you see that he’s hardly evil.”

Ahsoka was unsure. It didn't make sense, but she couldn't argue that Zeb's plan had succeeded because - and only because - Luke had let them go and stayed with the two injured Inquisitors. It wasn't Sith behaviour. 

“Perhaps he sees them as valuable allies?” Kanan guessed. 

"Perhaps," Ahsoka said. What did this mean?  _ Could _ it be that Luke wasn't what they believed him to be? How? She'd seen the warped monster the Dark Side made of her own Master, seen the malice and hate of the Emperor enacted in genocide and oppression across the galaxy. Luke was still an Inquisitor. He was still part of a system that stole and tortured children, which he  _ knew _ because it had been done to him! Leia had admitted herself that he had turned down an offer to switch sides, to work with the Rebel Alliance. 

Even if there was something good left inside of him, he was still working against them. 

“In some ways it doesn’t matter,” Ahsoka said. “What Luke wants isn’t compatible with bringing back the Jedi Order or the Republic. He wants to rule this galaxy just like any Sith. He’s going to keep the structure of the Empire with all its corruption and injustice. He wants to capture us and turn us to the Dark Side. Even if he’s not as bad as Vader or Sidious we shouldn’t let our guard down.”

Kanan and Ezra both nodded. Leia turned her head away, but she didn’t try to argue either. Ahsoka hoped she could come to accept this truth, at least. It would only hurt her more if she didn’t. 

\----

**3 BBY - Takobo, Takobo System, Calamari Sector, Outer Rim Territories**

“Let me do the talking,” Cal said, as the garrison commander left the room with a nervous glance back their way. Luke understood his feelings - he shared them. This would be his first time seeing the Emperor outside of Holonet broadcasts, maybe not face to face, but as good as. “I’m the senior Inquisitor.”

Luke nodded. He wasn’t sure what he would even say to Darth Sidious. How would he excuse their miserable failure here? And over and above that, did the Sith know that Vader was training him? Had he heard the same rumours as the rest of the Inquisitorius? Treachery and assassination might be the way of the Sith but so was putting down such rebellion with prejudice. 

The holotransmitter flickered into life, and Luke knelt, glancing up through his lashes at the shadowy, hooded figure. The Emperor was light years away but somehow his Force presence seemed to reach them here. The room grew cold, his skin prickling with an uncontrollable shiver. The Dark Side thickened, syrupy and heavy. It leached out of Luke’s bones, taking some measure of strength and security with it. 

If this was the Master of the Sith on a holocall, what must he be like in person?

“Third Brother.” The voice was little more than a whisper, but impossible to ignore. “Your lack of progress is disturbing.”

“Master,” Cal said, somehow managing to project confidence. “The rebels in this system have proven to be subtle and clever. There have been few opportunities to catch them even with the assistance of the sector fleet. However…”

Sidious’ voice cracked out like a whip. “I do not care for your  _ excuses,  _ Third Brother. What of the Jedi?”

Cal hesitated. It was too close to a show of weakness. 

“You had them cornered here on Takobo, did you not? Yet they managed to escape. I expect better.”

“They… severely injured Tenth Brother and Fifteenth Sister, Master. We called the local garrison to reinforce us, but they arrived too late.”

It didn’t sound all that convincing to Luke’s ears. This was his fault. He was the one who made Cal stay to help the others, who missed the lasat’s presence, who didn’t react in time to stop Banee or Tenth getting hurt. Cal was protecting him, but perhaps he shouldn’t be. If Luke was going to make choices, he ought to face up to their consequences. 

“You are Inquisitors, are you not?” Darth Sidious said, contempt dripping from every word. “Are you so  _ weak  _ you require an Imperial battalion to do your jobs? Pitiful.”

Cal bowed his head and said nothing. Luke hesitated, poised on the edge of speaking up. Something might have shown on his face, or perhaps the Emperor would have come round to him either way, but Sidious turned his head towards him and said, “And you. Fifteenth Brother. I have heard much about you. Such a pity you do not live up to the rumours.”

“My lord…” Luke hesitated. He could hardly defend his Sith credentials when it was friendship and care for others that made him hesitate. He still believed down to his core that those things weren’t a weakness, that their positives outweighed any possible disadvantage, but when it came to this particular example he could understand why someone would feel otherwise. Protecting Banee had cost them the Jedi. 

“You have nothing to say for yourself?” 

“We still have a lead,” Luke said, because no, he didn’t. No kind of argument based in sentiment would hold water with the Sith Lord, and he didn’t have any other defence. He could only press on with their report. “Third Brother’s droid overheard one of the Jedi give away the location of their base - on Garel. Once we liaise with the fleet…”

The Emperor waved dismissively. “Your failures will only be tolerated so long. Continue them, and you will answer to me in person. You have one month to remove the Jedi threat, or the consequences will be... permanent.” Abruptly, his holo vanished, connection severed. Luke shuddered, but the intense sensation in the Dark was already lifting. 

“That went better than I hoped,” Cal said, though his grim expression undercut that slightly. “I thought he would recall us right now. Replace us with Second Sister and one of the others.”

"Instead he's going to wait a month to kill us," Luke said. He still felt cold inside and out, even though it wasn't the Force causing that anymore. “What now?” 

“Now we don’t fail again,” Cal replied, face grim. 

Yeah, Luke thought. Easier said than done. 

**\----**

**3 BBY - Imperial Centre, Coruscant system, Corusca Sector, Core Worlds**

The Emperor sat back on his throne and tapped his fingers against the arm in thought. He did not care particularly about this latest failure because of any concern about the Jedi. No, let them run and hide like vermin - their deaths would come inevitably with time, and they posed no true threat to him or his Empire whatsoever. The primary cause of his irritation was that the boy had proved to be a disappointment. 

Where was the vicious promise shown by Fifteenth Brother’s use of Force Lightning? Where was the subtlety of his first attempts at manipulation? 

If this was all the ability Vader had trained into the boy thus far, his apprentice was even more useless than Sidious had thought. It was a pity. He had been looking forward to the inevitable ending of Vader’s little plot against him, eagerly anticipating the attempt at assassination which would turn so easily against his current Apprentice and fully deliver a replacement into his waiting hands. 

If the Inquisitor couldn’t even manage to track down and eliminate a few stragglers of the Jedi Order, then there was not much point in having him over Vader. 

Darth Sidious let his irritation fester and fed it into the Dark to join the wellspring of his power. The boy might still be salvageable. He would give him this brief span of additional time to prove his worth or to fall beneath the lightsabers of the Jedi, if he really was that pitiful. A few more weeks ought to be sufficient time to get a better measure of him, and after that… 

Vader would find another protégé in the end, if this little flicker of ambition remained. If not, Sidious would just have to be satisfied with playing his game against the Rebellion. 

How dull. 

**\----**

**3 BBY - Inquisitorius Shuttle** **_Eliminator_ ** **, Lothal Sector, Outer Rim Territories**

“Join me in the cockpit,” Third Brother suggested to Fifteenth Brother. The shuttle had breached atmosphere, but they needed to get further out of the gravity well before they could go to hyperspeed. “You still need to learn, remember.” It made a good enough excuse for them to talk without the presence of their temporary guests. 

Fifteenth Brother nodded, whispering something to his friend as he rose. Even salvaging parts from both shuttles, it had only been possible to repair one of them. Lacking transport, and unwilling to damage the reputation of the Inquisitorius by travelling injured on a normal Imperial transport, Tenth Brother had grudgingly requested a lift back to Mustafar for himself and his partner. Third had just as grudgingly agreed. 

Fifteenth Brother had managed to keep the zabrak alive and his brain oxygenated enough that he would probably make a full recovery, though it would be slow going. Whatever he’d done to Fifteenth Sister was much stranger. The wound refused to heal, and no amount of bacta was helping. The stuff seemed to just die and slough away, leaving the injuries static and unchanged beneath. It was unsettling, and more so because Fifteenth Brother clearly had no idea how he’d done it. 

“Is this really just about a teaching session?” Fifteenth Brother asked, once they were both sitting in front of the controls. “Or is this the part where you threaten to tell Darth Vader I have a friend?” 

Third paused with one hand on the steering yoke. That was blunt and to the point, and Fifteenth Brother’s eyes were burning with defiance. What did he plan on doing if Third said yes? 

“That isn’t what I’m planning,” he replied, “but you could have lied and said she doesn’t mean that much to you.”

“Because you would have believed that?”

“No, I suppose not. That doesn’t mean it’s smart to confirm people’s suspicions.” 

Fifteenth Brother shrugged. “The way I reacted was pretty obvious. I already tried to think of ways to justify it to you but I couldn’t think of anything that would work. I  _ hope  _ maybe you won’t tell anyone though. I hope I can trust you.”

Trust. Yes, that was something it looked like they both needed. Sith didn’t have friends. Inquisitors didn’t have friends. Third Brother’s ongoing friendship with Merrin was one of his last, most closely-guarded secrets, one he hadn’t wanted to share because he was afraid of the very thing Fifteenth was now accusing him of. If he’d extended a little faith earlier… though of course it had never been worth the risk. Now he had proof that the boy was capable of feeling that way about another person, or he had leverage, depending on what way he wanted to look at it. 

“I wondered the same thing about you,” he said. 

“And?”

“And I think we both should try trusting each other. Try… being friends.” Maybe it would help them work together better, help them catch their prey. Or maybe it would just be a brief period of warmth before their inevitable execution, if they failed again. 

Fifteenth Brother’s face broke into a smile like the sun coming out from behind clouds. “That’s exactly what I’ve wanted for a while,” he said. “I just didn’t think you would ever believe me. Is Banee really what convinced you? I should have mentioned her earlier.”

“Banee?” Third asked, raising an eyebrow. Using their real names? That was even more forbidden than having a friend. 

Fifteenth flushed slightly but didn’t back down. “I’m not going around calling her Fifteenth Sister. She has a name, and using it shouldn’t matter. It’s not like she had much of a life to go back to even if she could.”

“And what about you?” Third asked. 

“My name?” Fifteenth smiled. “It’s Luke.”

“I’m not sure if it's a good idea to use names,” Third said. “It would be too easy to get into the habit and let something slip.” Besides which, it was easier to forget everything he had lost when he didn’t have that reminder. Fifteenth… Luke had been taken far younger. Though Third didn't want to minimise the boy's pain, perhaps his memories of his past hurt less. 

Luke shrugged. “It’s gone okay so far. Banee and I were never caught and we’ve been doing it since we met. We didn’t have names at  _ all  _ on Arkanis - what were we  _ supposed _ to call each other?” 

“I expect you weren’t meant to be calling each other anything at all,” Third said. 

“We’re stronger together,” Luke said. It had the sound of a motto or a maxim. Third hummed, not quite believing it. Merrin had said something similar, but it was so hard to believe it. She and Cere and Greez hadn’t made him  _ stronger  _ for having them around. Losing them had been just more pain after the agony of Order 66, a repetition of the worst memories of his life. Had that been worth it? 

Merrin still thought it was. She was holding on to him through all of this even though he’d tried - albeit half-heartedly - to push her away. She understood what it was like to have your world and your people burned down around her and it hadn’t hollowed out her heart. 

It hadn’t done that to Cal either the first time, although he’d thought it had. The second time though… 

“So?” Luke said, looking at him expectantly. “What’s your name?”

Third Brother swallowed. “Cal,” he said. “Cal Kestis.”

Luke beamed, sticking out his hand. “Nice to meet you Cal,” he said. 

Gingerly, Cal shook his hand. He hoped he wasn’t making a mistake here. 

\----

**3 BBY - Castle Vader, Mustafar, Mustafar System, Atravis Sector, Outer Rim Territories**

Kenobi’s trail was lost to him once again. Vader had followed it across a dozen star systems and washed the streets of cities and decks of stations in blood attempting to draw his former Master out, but it had been to no avail. Once again Kenobi eluded him with the cunning that had made his name during the war. Once again Vader found himself slinking back to Mustafar a failure. 

The roiling, chaotic energies of the planet stoked his anger as he found himself roaming the halls of his fortress with restless energy. He wanted something to unleash his rage upon, but the sly, fawning acolytes Sidious had given him knew better than to go anywhere near him when he was in such a mood. The corridors were empty black stone, the polished shine of the walls reflecting him back to himself. His wrath turned easily inwards, spurred by this reminder that he had been given this opportunity and had wasted it. He could blame no-one other than himself. 

Vader finally found himself outside his rarely used office. He entered and sat in the massive chair behind the equally massive desk, reinforced for his weight, and sent the dust scattering with an irritated wave of the Force. Did his cleaning droids not enter this room? What else were they built for? 

He reached for one of the datapads that lay scattered across the desk and powered it on, flicking through the reports that had loaded automatically to it during his absence. Most he did not care about - he could have dealt with them as easily from any location in the galaxy if he wished, but the hunt for Kenobi had been more important. His Master could attempt to maliciously distract him with bureaucracy and look down at him with a falsehood of mocking disappointment when he ignored all of it, but he did not care. Let Sidious play his games. Once Kenobi was destroyed, Vader had thought, all of his actions would be vindicated. 

Kenobi was not destroyed. 

One set of reports caught his eye. The Emperor had forward them on to him with a high importance tag and so he had taken a particular delight in ignoring them, but now he supposed he ought to see what was of such concern. 

Ah. The reports were regarding the Fifteenth Brother. It appeared he had been assigned as one half of the team tracking down the Lothal rebel cell. 

Sidious had taken a particular spiteful pleasure in taking the duty of assigning that task away from Vader. Now he guessed why. Sidious either knew, or suspected enough that there was no difference, about Vader training Fifteenth Brother. There was perhaps still a veneer of plausible deniability over Vader’s actions, but such things had never mattered to his Master. All it meant was that he would not punish him openly. Instead he would take his new toy away from him and see it broken, dashed against the strength of his  _ former  _ padawan and destroyed. 

Fifteenth Brother was skilled, but he was not duellist enough to match Ahsoka Tano yet. 

Vader opened the reports and started to skim them, half-expecting to see a casualty report with the boy’s name on it, but no. Fifteenth and Third Brother had been no more successful than Vader himself, though they’d come close to capturing one of the Jedi padawans several times, but neither had they been significantly injured. This appeared to be because they had thus far not encountered Tano. 

Vader found himself uncharacteristically relieved. The emotion was unfamiliar enough that he found himself coming back to re-examine it. His care was more than simply that of having a useful tool survive. He… enjoyed training the boy. 

He would have called it an emotion unworthy of the Sith, but that was not entirely right. Sith were permitted to have pleasures, to seek enjoyment. There was a dark vindication in every moment Vader felt the fear his enemies felt rise into the Force around him, and he knew his Master took a great deal of joy in the pain and suffering of others as well as in the manipulative games he liked to play. Indeed there had been times when Sidious was almost gleeful in his pleasure. 

Could he then be condemned for the pleasure of training an apprentice? Was it not a natural goal and ambition for any Sith? 

Vader was suspicious though of any enjoyment. Hadn’t his life thus far taught him that such things were not meant for him? Every time he thought he had some speck of a good thing the will of the Force itself turned around and destroyed it utterly. No matter what he did, no matter how hard he struggled even with the power of the Sith at his command, it never turned out as he wanted it to. Surely this would be no different. Surely events - or his Master - would conspire to see the boy dead or turned against him or otherwise stolen from his grasp? 

The Dark curled heavy and cold around him, turning his heart to ice and cold ash. It knew. It knew and agreed. Nothing good could come of this. 

Why then did he insist on trying? Why did he insist on exposing himself to more frustration and pain? 

_ Because I am a Sith! I do not flinch from  _ pain _ ,  _ he thought. For too long he had been without desire or ambition, a disappointment to his Master. To turn aside from this merely because it was difficult was unworthy of him. 

Vader checked the reports once again, and saw with a slight curl of something akin to satisfaction that Fifteenth Brother was on his way back to Mustafar. Delivering injured Inquisitors, which was irrelevant, and no doubt intending to be here only for a short time before he returned to the hunt once again, but it would be long enough. Would his strength in the Force and his skill with a blade have improved in Vader’s absence? Perhaps not with only a Jedi padawan to match himself against, but a long and gruelling training session would illustrate that there was no excuse for slacking off. 

Rising and leaving his office with his spirits remarkably improved, Vader headed for his meditation chamber. Settling himself into the purity of the Dark would pass the time well until his apprentice arrived. 

\----

**3 BBY - Garel, Garel System, Lothal Sector, Outer Rim Territories**

Once they returned to Garel, Ahsoka didn't need to leave on another mission straight away. Leia took the opportunity to throw herself into her training with a particular focus on her saber skills. There was something horrible and twisted eating her up inside and she wanted to be distracted from it, though that was not the only reason. 

Whenever she looked at Zeb she imagined his claws tearing through her brother instead of the other Inquisitor, or she imagined her brother's lightsaber cutting his head from his shoulders. She imagined bloodshed and struggle and pain that she couldn't do anything about. She hadn't been with them. Something terrible and tragic could have happened there on Takobo that she would have been powerless to change. 

Leia didn't want Luke to get hurt. She didn't want to be the one to hurt him. But even if Ahsoka still didn't entirely believe her that they all had the same goal of destroying the Emperor she  _ was _ right about one thing. Luke was hunting them. He didn't have a choice about it, but that didn't change the facts. Luke had even told her that she would need to defend herself from him, that he would do what he had to do until he was in the right place to act. Leia hadn't wanted to believe him, had thought running and avoidance would be enough, but recent events had proved her wrong. 

It felt like fate, circumstance, and the Force were backing them both into a corner. Perhaps there would be a way out of it. There  _ had _ to be a way out of it. Until that time came though, until she figured out what to do, she needed to be there to help defend her  _ other _ friends. Luke was her brother. He was her responsibility. 

Nothing about any of this was easy. 


	30. Chapter 30

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Considering family, and a further lack of success.

**3 BBY - Castle Vader, Mustafar, Mustafar System, Atravis Sector, Outer Rim Territories**

Darth Vader was on Mustafar. Luke sensed it the moment they came out of hyperspace and approached the planet, the black hole at the centre of the nexus of chaotic Dark Side energies warping reality around it. Had he found Kenobi? Surely that was the only thing that would bring him home so soon. If so had he killed him or captured him? It was no secret how deeply the Sith hated the man and he might want to take his time over his death. 

Luke wasn't sure how to feel about the prospect of seeing Vader again. Of course he was only assuming that Vader would want to see him. He might be too busy. But if he did, if he summoned him, would it be for more training or to castigate him for his failures like the Emperor had? The thought was a painful one, twisting his stomach with guilt. He didn't want Vader to feel disappointed with him, to decide that he had made a mistake in teaching him. Luke thought it had to be made worse because he knew the Sith was his father, even if Vader didn't know that. How was he going to deal with it? Would he manage to hide the fact that he was keeping a secret from Vader, or would the Sith sense that he was holding something back and demand the truth? 

Should he just tell him? 

No. Luke still had no idea how he would react, and it could as easily be with anger as with anything else. Sith weren't meant to have family, weren't meant to have a past. He couldn't just come out and tell Vader that they were related. He had to feel him out more first. Ask about his past, about Anakin Skywalker, find out what he thought had happened to his children and if he had any idea that they might be alive. How he might feel about that possibility. 

And he had to do that in the brief period he would be on Mustafar. There was no  _ time  _ to truly focus on anything other than the hunt for Spectre and Phoenix.

Once they landed, Banee went with Tenth Brother for another medical check-up, the zabrak grumpy and bristling at everything around him from the indignity of still needing to wear a neck brace even after his surgery. Once they had left a Purge Trooper who had been lurking at the end of the corridor started to approach. More guilt stabbed through Luke at the sight of the man. He hadn’t made anything better for the Purge Troopers, and he still didn’t know how to. They’d made a pointed suggestion about talking to them first before doing anything, but Luke felt like he’d lost all of their potential trust already. Just something else to put on the list to do once the Emperor was dead - if Luke didn't die first.

“Sirs. Lord Vader requires the Fifteenth Brother to meet with him straight away.”

"And me?" Cal asked.

The Purge Trooper shook his head. "Only Fifteenth Brother."

Luke hoped it  _ was _ just to keep the Sith updated and maybe a training session as well, rather than some painful reprimand for failure then. If it was the latter, surely Cal would have been summoned too? He left Cal behind and followed the trooper out to a speeder, then spent the short journey to the castle spinning round other, even more unlikely possibilities in his brain. Perhaps Kenobi had told Vader that Luke was his son when he was cornered or captured. Perhaps he’d told Vader about Luke and Leia both. Perhaps Vader had only found out about Leia? Perhaps Vader felt so personally disappointed by the way Luke had kriffed up their last mission he was about to cut his head off as an example to all the other Inquisitors. 

The Dark Side shifted around him irritably, not particularly liking this litany of doubt. Luke had to admit he didn’t usually worry about things this much, but this was his  _ father  _ . 

Inside the fortress, one of the servants directed him to the salle and Luke relaxed slightly. That was a good sign, right? He could sense Vader’s presence there waiting for him, and there was no particular, directed rage to it. It was just that deep dark well, drawing the Force to it and allowing nothing away. After so many training sessions there was something comforting about it, even though that shouldn’t have made any sense. Luke entered the room and nodded respectfully. 

“Lord Vader.”

Vader’s helmet tilted, looking him over. “You have managed to avoid losing any further appendages,” he said. It sounded almost… fond. Luke couldn’t help thinking of Tenth Brother and Banee though. Their injuries were his fault. 

“Our pursuit of the rebels has been complicated, my lord,” he settled on saying. 

“Your training is far from complete, young one. Perhaps your lack of success is to be expected.” 

Luke sighed. Vader was being more understanding than a Sith had any right to be,  _ much  _ more understanding than Lord Sidious, but he and Third Brother  _ should  _ have been more effective than this. If he hadn’t messed up so badly on Takobo, they would still have two Jedi prisoners. “We…  _ I  _ have failed you, my lord.” 

“The rebels are cunning,” Vader replied. “The Jedi particularly. Sending you after the likes of Ahsoka Tano asks much.”

“I have Third Brother as well,” Luke pointed out. Was this really Vader trying to be nice, or was he subtly mocking Luke by suggesting he was just so very inept? 

Vader wasn’t really known for being subtle. He  _ was  _ kind of making Luke feel worse about this though. 

“Tano is an excellent duellist,” Vader told him. “If you wish to match her skill, your training must continue.” 

Luke nodded. The tension in his body that had been present on the journey over here had gradually left him in the face of Vader’s calm demeanour, and he was starting to feel eager to resume their usual sessions. Revelations about his father aside, he’d missed this. Now that he had a real Sith here, there were other things he should probably ask about - and he didn't know if Vader was aware that the Emperor had set them a time limit. 

“Come,” Vader said, pointing to the centre of the salle. “Show me your katas have not deteriorated.” 

It was a good thing Luke had them down slick enough that he didn’t need to concentrate too much on them. Muscle memory took care of that, leaving him free to talk. “There was something that happened on our last mission,” he said, whirling through Shii-Cho. “I used the Force in an unexpected way.”

“Explain.” Vader's attention on him was a weight in the Dark, but a comfortable one. 

“Fifteenth Sister was injured by the lasat.” This felt slightly risky to explain, but even if three of them left it out of their report Tenth Brother would leave it in. Better not to look like he was trying to hide it. “I thought that all I was doing was holding the blood inside the wounds with the Force, but… it became more than that. I don’t know what I did, but she stopped bleeding and afterwards when the med-droid put bacta on, it didn’t work.”

The Dark Side stirred around Vader in a sense of attentive listening. The familiar feeling of a predator waiting to pounce, but not with malice. “She will not heal?” 

“The bacta seems to die, or something like it,” Luke said. “I… assumed the wounds would still heal eventually.” This wasn’t good. 

“You continue to surprise, young one,” Vader said. “Even the basics of Sith alchemy are a difficult art.” 

“Sith alchemy?”

“The use of the Dark Side to alter the physical, living or dead. Sidious has many holocrons dealing with this subject, though his true skill at these arts were learned from  _ his  _ Master, Plagueis.”

“So I... altered the injuries somehow?” Luke frowned, moving on to the Makashi katas. The exertion was good, it helped him think without being too distracted by the nervous energy burning through him. “But surely I would have been trying to heal her, not do whatever this is.”

“Heal.” Vader’s vocoder crackled, a sound of dark mirth. “The Dark Side does not heal without demanding something in return.”

Luke thought he understood. This felt like the power held by the act of sacrifice - both the pack-protection self-sacrifice that Zar had shown him, or the merciless sacrifice of others to your own need and will that most of the other Darksiders preferred. “So…” he said slowly, working through the problem. “To heal her completely I would have needed to give her wound to someone else? Kill them to let her live?” 

“Perhaps,” Vader said. “I have not examined the topic in detail. It does not serve my purposes.” 

Luke looked at him sceptically. He wore a life-support suit. Surely that would benefit from this alchemy? He hardly thought Vader would hesitate in killing others to heal himself. 

“The cost is not always so simple as mere exchange,” Vader warned him. It must have been obvious what Luke was thinking. “To cheat death requires imposing an unnatural will upon reality. You have found this already. Fifteenth Sister will bear those injuries eternally.” 

“They’re not going to heal  _ at all  _ ?” Luke said, alarmed. 

“No.” 

The katas were over; Luke slowed to a stop in the final stance, his thoughts hammering at the inside of his skull. He had messed up worse than he thought. He hadn’t wanted to do this to Banee! Letting her bleed out and die would have been worse though. If this was the only way to survive… 

“Your katas are acceptable,” Vader said. “The next form is traditionally Soresu, but defending against attacks at range will not serve you against the Jedi. We shall return to it, but for now you will begin the fourth form, Ataru.”

“Yes, Lord Vader,” Luke said. He still wanted to ask all those other questions that had been swimming around his head, but now he was going to have to concentrate. Later then. He would make sure to test the waters before either of them had to leave again. 

\----

"Banee..." 

Banee turned in her seat to see Luke standing in the doorway of her small room. "Luke." She gave him a once-over; he looked the same as when they left each other this morning thankfully. Darth Vader hadn't punished him then, or at least not in any way that was obvious. "Come in." She realised that her injuries were still exposed where she had been examining them in the mirror and moved quickly to plaster the bacta bandage back into place. That just drew Luke's attention to them, and she saw him wince very slightly. 

"How do they feel?" he asked her, coming to sit down on the bed. There wasn't a lot of furniture in here. 

"Still no pain," Banee said. "More... numb, almost. It feels very strange."

"I spoke to Vader about it. He says what I did is something known as Sith Alchemy." 

"Stop looking so guilty," Banee told him, made uncomfortable herself by the uneasy expression on his face. "You saved my life. Does it really matter how? You've been learning lots of strange Dark Side powers anyway, what's one more?"

"Apparently it's like a lot of things to do with the Dark," Luke said. "Nothing without a price."

That sounded ominous. "And what's the price of this?" 

"I don't exactly know. Vader thinks that maybe your wounds are ever going to heal properly. Not ever."

Banee reached up to prod at the bandage. Still nothing. No hint of pain, just odd and altered sensation. She thought about that idea, about having these open slashes across her throat for the rest of her life. Not bleeding, not rotting (she hoped), but not closing over either. Just... there. "That still seems better than being dead."

Luke was silent for a moment, then he managed a small smile. "I suppose so. I just wish I knew what I was doing with these things before I jumped in with my eyes closed. This feels like I kriffed it up. If I'd known more I could have... healed you properly, I guess."

"And how exactly are you meant to have known how to do it 'properly'?" Banee asked, rolling her eyes. "Did you even know it was possible to heal with the Force before now?"

"Well. No."

"Then how could you have learned better? I'm  _ alive _ because of you. Stop feeling  _ guilty _ for that!"

Luke's smile this time was a little wider. Something in him relaxed. "You're right. Thank you. Still, maybe one day I'll know enough to fix what I did and close those wounds properly."

"One thing at a time," Banee said. "What about, you know. The larger plan." She wasn't going to come out and say the words 'kill the Emperor' here, even if she was fairly sure that they weren't being monitored or listened to. 

"Third Brother and I have to catch these Jedi first," Luke said with a sigh. "The Emperor wasn't pleased with what happened on Takobo. We only have a month otherwise... all of this will have been for nothing."

Now it was Banee's turn to feel the stab of guilt. Luke was in trouble because of her - and Tenth Brother but she wasn't about to feel responsible for what happened to him. It stung to have been bested so easily by a warrior who wasn't even a Jedi. If she'd been more aware, had managed to react faster, then she wouldn't have been injured and Luke wouldn't have been forced to choose between his mission and his friend. Anger growled in her chest, bringing the Dark Side with it. "They're dangerous," she said. "They  _ should _ be dealt with."

"I want the Jedi to join us," Luke said. "They would make the Inquisitorius stronger." He picked his words carefully. "I understand why the rebels are fighting the Empire.  _ I'm _ trying to change the Empire. That doesn't mean I won't do my job, and there's nothing I can do to save the rest of them from the firing squad."

"Is that something you even want?" Banee asked. The desire for revenge burned bright and fierce inside her. 

Luke shrugged. He couldn't meet her eyes. Banee supposed it didn't really matter. Choices were luxuries people like them didn't always get - what would be, would be, at least until Luke took up the mantle and power of a Sith Lord. 

"I’m always here if you need to talk about things,” she said. “If you want to bounce ideas off me.”

“I might take you up on that,” Luke replied. “We’ve got one lead to work on, but it looks like Third and I will be sticking around here for a few days more. Maybe we can even spar?”

Banee grinned. “Of course.”

\----

Beedee had picked up information that the rebels were basing themselves on Garel, but this time Luke and Cal weren’t going to go jumping into things without backup. Cal was busy persuading Agent Kallus to verify what had just been an overheard, offhand, remark, and they would need to coordinate with the Imperial sector fleet once that was done. It meant that Luke still had a few days to spare so he could train with and talk to Darth Vader, and time to spend with Banee in the moments in between. 

Each one of those days might have dragged agonisingly otherwise, felt like wasted time moving towards their doom. At least this way Luke could say he was improving his chances against the Jedi the next time they fought.

Ataru was fun. It involved a lot of acrobatic work, overhead flips and kicks and all kinds of jumping to make use of battlefield terrain. The salle at Castle Vader could rearrange itself into a multi-platformed area like the training zones on Arkanis, and it felt as though he was building on the basics of what he’d learned before. He was progressing fast, taking to it as naturally as he had the other forms, and Luke chose the end of one of their sessions where Vader seemed particularly pleased to bring up the subject of Dark Side philosophy. 

“I wanted to ask for your opinion Lord Vader,” he said, wiping sweat from his brow and stowing his lightsaber away. He really needed a hot shower, but that could wait. 

“You may ask.”

“Inquisitors give up their past when they turn to the Dark Side,” Luke said, trying to act casual. “That’s why it’s no big deal that some of them used to be Jedi, right?”

“This is true of many of the older Inquisitors,” Vader said, which was more information than Luke had expected him to offer. He really  _ must  _ be in a good mood. “They saw the weakness of the Jedi and made the wiser choice.”

“Is it just about having been a Jedi? I heard there used to be other Force traditions as well. If someone from one of those joined us, would they have to give up their past too?” 

“The question is not relevant, as no such traditions exist any longer.” 

Was that true? The galaxy was a big place - but the Empire did rule most of it. “The kids taken by Project Harvester then,” he said. “Is it really necessary for them, when they don’t have any weak traditions or beliefs that could lead them astray?” 

“Do you mourn your past young one?” Vader’s head cocked slightly, sounding more curious than angry. Luke knew he was treading on shifting sands here. Yes this was about his past, but only because that was also Vader’s past. 

“It’s not like I would have grown up to be a Jedi if the Inquisitors hadn’t found me,” Luke said, trying not to let any hint of doubt about that out into the Force. Apparently Kenobi had been keeping an eye on him, so perhaps he would have taken him on as a padawan after a year or two more. “I wouldn’t be an Inquisitor either. I wouldn’t have power. But my family would be alive.”

The air around them chilled. The Dark opened up under the shadows of a familiar anger. He was still skirting the edge of it though, and Vader hadn’t lost his patience yet. “If they had given you up willingly, they would still live.”

“But I wouldn’t be allowed to see them,” Luke pointed out. He wasn’t even sure if Vader was right about that. He didn’t sense a lie in the Force, but why would the Inquisitorius leave any kind of tie to their old lives behind? “I would be expected to forget them.”

“You are not the same child, scratching a living from the earth like a womp-rat,” Vader said, sticking a finger in his face to make his point. “We are all reborn in the Dark. Our past, like all weakness, is burned away. To allow a reminder is to let that weakness back in.”

_ That  _ rang with sincerity in the Force but also… not. A discordant note lay underneath it. Luke wasn’t sure what that meant. There didn’t seem to be any room for Anakin Skywalker’s legacy in Vader’s words, and that didn’t feel good at all. 

“Ninth Sister told me that friends are a weakness,” he said. “That real friendship is impossible because people are self-centred and only care about themselves.”

The cold, suffocating cloak of the Dark deepened. Luke bolstered himself against it with his own determination, his perhaps-desperate hope. This was his father. “She is correct,” Vader said. 

“Isn’t it a good thing to have allies?”

“Allies are not friends. Friendship leads only to inevitable betrayal.” That sounded personal. A stab of hate lanced into the Force, sharp, poisonous, a painful vibration like passing a hand too close to a power core. Luke knew so little about how Anakin had become Vader. Leia had explained what she could, but she didn’t really know either. It seemed like nobody did. Who had his friends been, when he was a Jedi? How had they betrayed him, and was that why he turned? 

“Allies can  _ be  _ friends,” Luke said. 

“Do not be foolish boy,” Vader snapped. “You have been taught better than this.”

“Being a Sith is all about getting what you want - what if what you want is to have other people there for you. Friends or allies or… or even family. Whatever you want to call them. Isn’t everything possible with the Dark Side?” Vader’s anger was growing but Luke kept pushing on anyway. He didn’t know if he would get a chance to make this argument again. “It was the Jedi that forbade attachments - doesn’t that mean attachment is of the Sith, of the Dark? We use our emotions to channel the Force; what about love - romantic, familial, platonic… isn’t that an emotion?”

When he spoke Vader’s deep baritone seemed to make the air, the very world around them tremble. “You,  _ boy _ , know  _ nothing  _ of love. Get out. Now.”

The metal panels on the walls were starting to crumple with screeches and groans. Luke had pushed too far. He did as he’d been ordered and heard the deafening rumble of the room being destroyed behind him. Wincing, he walked fast down the corridor trying not to break into a run. Vader wasn’t coming after him. He was far from the source of the destruction. That didn’t mean he couldn't  _ feel  _ what Vader was doing to the Force all around him, the deep howling turmoil of hate and rage and pain that was chewing at reality itself. 

Vader wasn’t angry at him because Luke didn’t understand a point of philosophy, because he was speaking some kind of Dark Side heresy. Luke’s words had prodded at a hidden wound, something very personal. He just didn’t have enough of the pieces to say what. Was it about friendship, or about family? 

Leia said Obi-wan Kenobi had been Vader’s - Anakin’s - Master. They’d been Jedi though so they couldn’t have been friends, right? Or… Anakin had loved Luke’s mother. They’d gotten married even, so he couldn’t have cared  _ that _ much about following the rules of the Jedi code. Perhaps Kenobi had been the same, for a time. Perhaps Anakin had just  _ thought  _ they were friends until… what? Until he told Kenobi about his marriage, about Padme’s pregnancy, and Kenobi turned on him? Berated him, betrayed him to the Jedi Council, told him they’d never really been friends and that Anakin was a terrible Jedi? 

Luke tried to imagine that happening between him and Banee and couldn’t. If something along those lines had happened though, it would explain why it hurt Vader so much. Why he saw friendship as leading so clearly to pain. 

Maybe his reaction had been about family - or about both things. This whole conversation hadn’t really answered the main question that Luke had, which was what Vader felt about the possibility of family _now_. He must have loved Padme, to marry her despite what the Jedi Order would think. Had she known he was a Sith? When had that turn to the Dark even happened? Before or after her death? Did Vader want to erase all his feelings towards her in his rebirth as a Sith or was he still grieving? Either option could have led to that explosion of rage. 

Leia said - second-hand from her adopted parents apparently - that their mother had been obviously pregnant at the time of her funeral. It had caused a lot of speculation but no concrete answers, and Leia had no idea if anyone had ever connected Padme to Anakin Skywalker in that way outside of a few close friends. Luke still didn’t know if Vader believed his children had died along with her. If he even knew there were twins. 

Trying to tell the Sith that Luke was his son didn’t seem like a good idea, not yet. Not until he could talk to Vader about families without provoking that kind of reaction. 

\----

Eventually Vader's rage cooled enough that he could think rather than react. Fifteenth Brother was long gone and the salle was in ruins, the walls, floor and ceiling all cracked and crumbling. Vader's anger was eternal, but he let it warm him now only as embers. What had the boy meant by bringing up such a subject? Did he not know that such things were both foolish and forbidden? Families. Love. For these things Anakin Skywalker had bled the Temple dry in a thousand sacrifices, and all of it had been in vain. Everything he had done, each connection burned in the flames of the Empire's birth, each life flashing into the Force, each weakness purged and erased... 

All of it for her. For Padme. For his wife and for his unborn child. 

Yes. Everything was possible in the Dark Side. Except for Darth Vader to be happy, apparently. 

Why did the boy speak with such yearning? Vader had not asked him how old he was when he went to the Inquisitorius but he assumed his apprentice had some memories of his childhood and his parents. Was he thinking of that? Wishing he could change the past and go back? He could not. The price of the Dark and all its power was to be changed irrevocably, and there was no return. One could not take back what they had done or what they had become. If Fifteenth Brother sought to use his strength to retrieve some shred of childhood, he would be sorely disappointed. 

But perhaps it was not that. Allies. Friends. Attachments. The child was speaking of the present, not the past. Did he long to build a family here and now? He would be foolish indeed if he thought he could trust any of the other Inquisitors. The Dark did not care for tender emotions. If his apprentice was trying to seek his permission then Vader would do better to warn him away from the idea. It would only be perceived as a weakness, as a place to slip the knife of betrayal. 

Yet the boy had not asked any of the Inquisitors these questions. He had asked Vader. His Master and his mentor. 

Vader had not sensed the boy's hate for him in some time. Was it possible that...?

_ Ani, something wonderful has happened _ . 

Once again the room around him trembled as the Force reacted to his surging emotions, as Vader clenched his hands into fists until the prosthetics creaked under the strain. His child was  _ dead _ . An apprentice was only that, nothing more. He did not seek to  _ replace _ that which he had lost - the very idea was an insult to their memory. He had proven that he did not deserve to have a family. 

Fifteenth Brother could not possibly see him as some kind of father figure. It was absurd. 

**\----**

**3 BBY - Garel, Garel System, Lothal Sector, Outer Rim Territories**

"I don't sense them," Cal said, as they moved towards the hanger where - at their best guess - the  _ Ghost _ was docked. "Are you getting anything?"

Luke shook his head. His lightsaber was in his hand but not ignited. "Nothing. They're keeping their signatures locked down."

"You found them on Takobo."

Luke bristled slightly. He couldn't help it, even though he knew Cal's criticism was coming from a place of fear more than anything else. "They were more open on Takobo," he replied. "They were looking for the child."

"Then we'd better hope Kallus' sources guessed right about which hanger is which," Cal said. They had reached the door now. It was locked, but that wasn't a problem for two Inquisitors. Luke wrapped the Force around it and wrenched upwards. Metal screamed and crumpled, leaving the way open and they darted inside knowing the time for stealth was over. The hangar bay opened out before them, a hive of activity as almost simultaneously the Star Destroyers of the Lothal Sector Fleet appeared out of hyperspace in the skies above Garel. People were running for the ship in the centre of the bay - but it wasn't the  _ Ghost _ . 

"Force  _ damn it _ ," Luke shouted, fear clutching at his heart and morphing quickly into anger that was echoed and bolstered and encouraged by the Dark Side around him. These were rebel insurgents, but they were not the Jedi. 

Men and women turned at their entrance, raising pistols and rifles. Blaster bolts flashed through the air towards them; Luke flicked his lightsaber on and into guard, batting them back. The rebels were making a fighting retreat of it - somehow they must have guessed this attack was coming even if whatever warning they'd had hadn't been much. They would be in the air shortly. Rage was burning up Luke inside, the sheer frustration of coming so close to potentially finding the Spectre cell again and getting  _ something _ to show the Emperor yet having that snatched away because of shoddy intel. With Cal at his side he darted forwards with their lightsaber blades a blur of red and started to cut their way through the fleeing insurgents towards the corvette. That turned the retreat into an all-out rout as people stopped even trying to fight them off and just made a break for it. 

The corvette's engines glowed bright yellow as it started to lift off. Bodies littered the floor around them but it wasn't enough. Luke reached for the ship, the Dark Side taking shape like the crushing jaws of a greater krayt dragon, clamping down on the outside of the vessel with the kind of telekinetic bite that turned Tatooine stone to dust. The corvette juddered, caught in place and straining against it. Luke grunted with effort, arms outstretched and refusing to give so much as an inch. 

"Cal," he said through gritted teeth, "I can't hold this forever."

Cal sent his saber spinning through the air. The blade sank hilt-deep into the plating over the nearest engine, then he wrenched it sideways. Fire spouted in its wake and as the lightsaber came free from the deep gash something exploded inside. The ship lurched, sliding towards the nearest wall. It hit with a screech of crumpled metal and the crack-thud of crumbling pourcrete. There was a brief instant of silence, and then a flash of blue light inside the engines. Luke let go of the ship and threw the Force up in a wall in front of them. 

The shockwave of the ship blowing rolled over them, cut down to only a strong breeze by Luke's shield. Burning wreckage rained down to either side. There didn't appear to be any survivors. 

"I'm calling Kallus," Cal said, slightly faint through the ringing in Luke's ears. "We need the  _ Ghost _ dealt with."

\----

It was something of a surprise to Alexsandr Kallus to find out that the Inquisitor's information had indeed been reliable. Admiral Konstantin and the Commander of the Garel garrison were both very sure that no rebel presence could have escaped their notice, but sadly their military training did not equip them well for dealing with the subtle guerrilla tactics of these insurgents. Once again the Imperial Navy, the ISB and the Inquisitorius would join forces with the intent of wiping out the nest of vipers for good. 

It shouldn’t have been a surprise that things did not go as planned. When it came to Phoenix Squadron, they tended not to. On the ground, the Inquisitors had found a CR90-corvette in the hanger that should have housed the Jedis' freighter  _ Ghost _ , though they had managed to destroy the vessel entirely even so. The  _ Ghost _ had already been in the air when the Star Destroyers came into atmosphere, and its superior manoeuvrability and the skill of its pilot had seen it dodging any attempt to pin it in place with their tractor beam. 

Spectre was only one piece of the greater insurgency however, and this had been a heavy blow against that greater rebellion. Other ships had been shot down, and they had been flushed entirely from an otherwise loyal Imperial world.

That didn't mean the Inquisitors were happy.

“Did you even get a hyperspace trajectory?” the Third Brother demanded, facing off against Admiral Konstantin over the holotable. 

Konstantin blustered through a reply, as expected. “Since you are not a military man, I don’t expect you to know how difficult that is…”

“Then we have nothing to go on,” Third Brother said, his irritation plain. Behind him the other one just watched. His eyes were sharp and unnerving. ISB agents were trained to keep their thoughts organised, to resist interrogation and torture, which Alexsandr understood helped against Jedi mind-tricks. That didn’t mean the Inquisitors  _ couldn’t  _ read his mind though. 

He had nothing to fear. He had no secrets that would jeopardize his standing as a loyal Imperial officer. 

The young Inquisitor still concerned him. He didn’t speak like a mere cadet, but no matter how much Alexsandr studied him he couldn’t convince himself he was any older than his teens. Even if he was some kind of near-human that aged differently, he was still so clearly just out of puberty. He had too much authority for that to be possible though.

Alexsandr didn’t bother to listen to the bickering going on. They were essentially back where they’d started, which meant a return to their previous methods. It would either give them another lead or it wouldn’t. Finally the older Inquisitor let out a frustrated sign and turned to leave. The younger one followed, but as he did he took his hand from his belt where he had been fidgeting with something and there was a light ting as a metal object hit the ground. Alexsandr stooped and picked it up. 

It wasn’t one thing, but two. Two halves, curved durasteel with circuitry lining the inner part. He knew what it was. A shock-collar. One that had seen a lot of use going by the carbon-scoring layer onto it. They were used on particularly recalcitrant prisoners, or on slaves in the less civilised parts of the galaxy. Or perhaps, on captured Jedi. 

“Inquisitor,” he called out. “You dropped this.”

The boy turned, giving an almost embarrassed smile when he saw what Kallus was holding. “Thanks Agent. I would have been sorry to lose that.”

Alexsandr couldn’t help himself. “Why? These aren’t hard to get hold of.” 

“Well, this one is special,” the Inquisitor said, with that same smile. “Childhood memories, you know.” He took it from Kallus’ unresisting fingers. 

What? The bottom of his stomach had dropped out beneath him, a queasy, unsettling feeling. He moistened suddenly dry lips as Fifteenth Brother turned to walk away, his gaze moving to the boy’s neck. The high uniform collar hid most of the skin, but with the eye of suspicion perhaps there  _ was  _ a hint of scarring just visible there. 

“How old are you?” he asked, before the Inquisitor could leave. 

He turned back. “Too old for childish sentiment, is that what you’re asking?” The boy laughed. “I was sixteen last Empire Day.” 

Alexsandr didn’t ask any more questions, just let him go with something cold settling inside of him. He’d thought the secrecy of the Inquisitorius was simply about their sorcerous powers, but now he wondered just what else they were hiding.


	31. Chapter 31

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A detour to Dathomir.

**3 BBY - Dathomir, Dathomir System, Quelli Sector, Outer Rim Territories**

“Thank you for trusting me with this,” Luke said, as they descended the ramp of the shuttle into the heavy air of Dathomir. This place was strong in the Force, he had sensed it since they entered the atmosphere, but it wasn’t either Light or Dark as he had felt it before. It was old and wild and strong, and it did not feel welcoming. Even so, this was where Cal’s friend lived, which meant it couldn’t be all bad. He hadn't been certain about taking even a day away from their hunt to travel here, but Cal thought that whatever was showing up in the Dark on Dathomir might help them somehow. It wasn't as though they had any genuine, firm leads to go on. 

He looked around with interest - they had landed high up on a mesa, gnarled plants clinging in tangles to bare red rock. The rays of the crimson sun were wan against his skin, holding little heat. It was cold up here, a chill wind blowing. Stone bridges led away to a massive citadel carved out of the side of the mountain.

“It’s not just about trust,” Cal said, turning back to him. “It's mutually assured destruction. If you were to betray me I could return the favour.” A pause. “I do trust you though. At least a bit.” On his shoulder, Beedee warbled something less convinced. 

Luke smiled. The droid was just trying to protect Cal, and sometimes he thought that Cal was trying to test him when he spoke like that. Seeing if he flinched from this tentatively growing connection between them. “I’ll take it,” he said. “I want to meet your friend. When did you two first meet? How long have you known each other?”

Cal sighed. “It was… ten years ago? Force, has it really been that long? It doesn’t feel like it.” 

"Before you became an Inquisitor?"

"I wasn't in the business of making friends afterwards."

"Until now," Luke said.

"Until now." Cal looked up at the crumbling fortress with a fond look. "I still called myself a Jedi then, even though the Order had been dead for five years. I was on a foolish quest, trying to protect something that probably wasn't worth protecting. Information the Empire would have found out another way even if I had succeeded."

Beedee beeped something Luke didn't quite catch, though it seemed to be that the droid had been involved in this as well. 

"Why come to Dathomir? Assuming that's where you met," he asked.

"I was looking for an old tomb here. A place strong in the Dark Side."

"A Sith place?"

Cal shook his head. "A different Dark Side tradition, one that came even before the Nightsisters. There was an artefact interred here that I needed. Merrin didn't trust me at first - someone came here and slaughtered her people - someone wielding lightsabers. She thought it was the Jedi, but we've looked into it since then and we're pretty sure it was a Separatist General named Grievous. At the time she tried to kill me, but I managed to persuade her I didn't mean her any harm."

"You've both lost people," Luke said. He could see how that point of similarity and shared experience would have bound them together. 

"Most people would be surprised I became friends with someone who tried to kill me."

Luke frowned. "Why? I'm friends with people who've tried to kill me."

"I don't think Ninth Sister or Banee would have been trying very hard."

Luke bit his tongue. That was true, but they weren’t all of the people he’d been thinking about when he said that. He had almost forgotten that Cal didn't know about his connection to Leia. Not that Leia had tried to kill him, not yet. That wasn’t something that could continue much longer, but Luke wouldn’t hold it against her when the time came. He hoped she wouldn’t hate him either. Their friendship had survived this long with them both on different sides. 

Knowing Leia was much worse of a secret than being friends with Banee. He just wasn't used to thinking about it like that. Talking to Leia still felt natural - they were siblings, for the Force’s sake! And yet she was an insurgent and a Jedi. She was his prey, but without the threat of death hanging over their heads how hard would he really be trying to catch her? That was treasonous. Would be treasonous. 

"Merrin came with me to Nur, later on," Cal continued. "That's where I was captured and... you know." He shook his head, momentarily caught in unpleasant memories. "I had no idea what happened to her at first. It wasn't until much later, when they let me out on my first mission, that she found me again. I was alone, had gotten separated from Second Sister. I was terrified Second would think it had been on purpose, terrified about what she would do to me. It wasn't a good place to be in when Merrin turned up. She thought perhaps I'd managed to escape. Nightsister magic is very different to the Jedi and the Sith; she couldn't feel that... that I'd Fallen to the Dark Side. I pushed her away - her just being there felt dangerous, like a threat to my safety. Merrin didn't understand at first, but perhaps she sensed something of what I was feeling. She didn't chase me when I ran." 

Beedee whistled mournfully. It seemed to help - Cal gave a small smile in response. 

"But that wasn't the end of it," Luke said.

Cal shook his head. "She still knew Beedee's comm frequency. She sent me messages through him, reaching out to me. Eventually I got up the courage to reach back."

"She never gave up on you. She must care about you very much." She sounded like a true friend. Luke was very glad Cal had someone like her. 

"It would be safer for her if she didn't," Cal said. 

They had been walking over the eroded stone bridges towards the citadel and now they were on its doorstep, various smaller buildings eroded by the wind and weather rising up in layers to make a maze out of the approach. Cal led the way with confidence born of familiarity. A few massive spiders watched them pass from the shadows, their simple minds cautious and hungry and part of the planet's odd Force-presence. Perhaps they sensed the Dark in the two of them, because they made no move to attack. As they climbed up several flights of stairs and wandered across plazas it became clear that this had been a bustling town once, now completely abandoned. Something whispered in the Force, a faint ghost or echo of death. 

Finally they reached the fortress and headed inside. Immediately Luke felt that he was being watched. It had to be Merrin. He didn't have to wait long for her to show herself. The strangeness in the Force intensified, focusing in on one particular spot, and bright green smoke began to spew from nothing. It whirled up and made the shape of a person, and then she was simply _there_. She wore red and grey layered robes, a gold necklace resting prominently over her clavicle. Warm brown eyes looked him over from a pale face lined with either natural markings or tattoos. Her magic - or whatever it was - gathered close around her like the smoke. 

How had she done that? Appeared from nothing? It wasn't like any Sith or Jedi ability he'd ever heard of. 

"This is the one?" she asked. "He is trustworthy?"

"You're the one who said I should try trusting people," Cal replied. He was smiling, soft and gentle. It made him look different, years younger. 

"Having more friends will be good for you Cal," Merrin said. At Beedee's indignant beep she added, "Friends aside from you and me, Beedee." She went back to looking at Luke, assessing him. "My people have had difficulties with the Sith in the past," she told him. 

"I'm sorry about that," Luke said. "Although I'm not technically a Sith yet." 

Merrin pointed two fingers towards her eyes, raising an eyebrow. Luke flushed slightly and shrugged. "That's not exactly the only qualification though is it?" he said. 

"Our leader, Mother Talzin, worked with a Sith during the Clone War," Merrin said. "Others among the matriarchs thought it wasn't a good idea to get involved. We Nightsisters managed to stay out of the war between the Sith and the Jedi for many centuries, and so the Jedi never tried to destroy us, even though they never trusted us or our powers. Mother Talzin didn't listen, and then all of my people died. I only survived because I was young and I hid. I don't know who sent that creature - I thought he was a Jedi for the longest time - but now I think it was the doing of that Sith."

"I'm sorry," Luke said again. "That's a horrible thing to have done to you and your people." 

"For so long I wanted revenge," Merrin said. "I'd almost given up on the idea of it ever happening until now." 

"What's changed?" Luke asked, immediately suspicious. "Is that why you called Cal here?"

"Cal told me you're training with the Sith Apprentice. That means you're going to kill the Sith Lord. It is the way of things."

Luke couldn't exactly deny it. He just wished it wasn't quite so obvious. Darth Sidious had spoken of the rumours about him, although he'd been unimpressed with his abilities after Luke's failure to complete his mission. If the whole point of the Sith was to kill the Master and ascend, he might not be angry about their plotting specifically. That didn't mean he would make killing him _easy._ That was part of the whole thing too. 

"I hope you succeed," Merrin told him. "That would be my revenge. I want to help you." 

Luke felt himself smile, unable to control it. "Friends then?" he suggested. Merrin's answering smile was small and furtive. 

"Friends," she agreed. 

"Merrin..." Cal cut in, glancing between the two of them. "Killing a Sith isn't a team activity."

"Why not?" Luke said, grinning up at him. "You're welcome to help."

"This is treason."

"How can it be?" Luke said. "It's the way of the Sith. Everyone knows that."

Cal's jaw twitched. "It's treason for people who _aren't_ _Sith._ "

Luke held himself back from saying something else joking. This felt like time for a serious conversation. "You know as well as I do that some of the things the Empire is doing are wrong. We would have killed those escaped slaves if we followed Imperial protocol - it was only because we trusted each other to see what was right and just that it didn't happen. Rebels like the Spectre cell... they've been radicalised by what's happened to them or their people in the past. They don't have a peaceful way of resolving those injustices. I don't agree with their methods or this idea of bringing back the Republic that some of them seem to have but that doesn't mean they don't have at least a bit of a point."

"Oh," Cal said, sighing. "More treason."

"Is it treason to want the Empire to be better? To have it live up to its ideals?"

"Again, it is when you want to achieve that by killing the Emperor!"

Merrin laughed, holding a hand up to cover her smile. "Sorry," she said, when they both turned to look at her. "You're arguing like friends already."

"I've tried fighting the Empire and the Sith before," Cal said. "It didn't work, and it landed me here, wearing _this_." He gestured at his uniform. "Some things are too big to change. Too cruel to influence through peaceful measures and too strong to defeat with violence."

"That's why I have to go straight to the top," Luke replied. "To take the power that I need to make things different. That's the ambition of any Sith, right?"

"The ambitions of most Sith are more selfish."

"Who says I'm not being selfish? Helping other people makes me happy."

Cal gave him a look of deep frustration. Luke just grinned. It was frequently annoying that people found it hard to believe him when he laid out his goals as plainly as this, but there _was_ something fun about the way their brains seemed to short out like a poorly programmed old droid. Cal took a deep breath, and said, "You don't make any sense."

"Why not?"

"Because this... this _compassion_ isn't how Sith work! It's not how the Dark Side works!"

Luke frowned. Cal had said something like this to him before but he'd brushed it off, thinking it was based on Ninth Sister's sort of philosophy, or leftover from old Jedi beliefs, an accusation that he was doing things wrong or that he was lying about his intentions. Only he didn't sense that Cal thought he was trying to manipulate him. "Compassion isn't weakness," he said. "I don't feel like it's making me weaker, anyway. I don't have any trouble drawing on the Force, it's only that I'm not as trained in combat as you are, or know as much about Sith arts as Lord Vader."

"That is not what he meant," Merrin said. She was giving him an odd look too, but hers was less disbelieving and more curious. Assessing him. "I do not know the Dark Side like I know our magics, but Cal has told me how it affects him. It is strong and cruel and without mercy. It should not tolerate compassion."

Cal nodded. "Caring about others is inimical to the Dark Side. The Dark, the Inquisitorius, the Sith... it's about pain, about hate and anger, about wanting to hurt other people as well. We were both taught to use the Dark in the same way, I _know_ that. Just because things are more drawn out on Arkanis doesn't mean they don't torture you. The Dark should be reinforcing all of those emotions. A Light emotion like compassion is not something you should even be able to experience while using the Dark Side."

Luke's confusion only deepened. Yes, it was easy to draw on the Dark through the catalyst of hate and anger and pain, it echoed those emotions well and reinforced them in the moment, but those weren't the only emotions that existed. The Dark was all about emotion, and the Light wasn't. How could there be "Light" emotions? "I thought Jedi weren't supposed to feel emotion," he said, though that was only part of what he didn't understand about what they were trying to tell him. 

"That's what they tell you on Arkanis?" Cal asked, looking equally taken aback. "That's... no, I don't know why I'm surprised. It isn't accurate though. For one thing it isn't biologically possible not to feel _any_ emotions."

"Well it's not as though Sith ideals are all that achievable either," Luke said, thinking of their ideas around choice specifically. "Isn't that what the Jedi used the Light Side for though? Washing the emotions out and bowing to the will of the Light, letting it do what it wants with them?" 

More confusion. "I really should have paid more attention to what Project Harvester was telling you kids," Cal said, mostly to himself. "That wasn't it at all. It wasn't how _I_ was trained, before all of this. The Jedi were encouraged to be in tune with their emotions while at the same time knowing they couldn’t allow those emotions to have any power over their actions. The idea was that emotion influences people to be selfish or unreasonable, and can lead to harming others, physically or otherwise. If you don't understand where your emotions come from or why you're experiencing them then you react rashly instead of thinking about the situation. Jedi had to be impartial, rational, dispassionate. That meant knowing themselves and controlling themselves."

"That... doesn't sound as bad as I thought." Luke knew the Sith hadn't been telling the whole truth about the Jedi - with Leia as an example that had been obvious. He just didn't realise how much of what he'd been told in his lessons was a lie. 

Why had he never just _asked_ her about her Jedi training? Just because he was afraid of what he would hear? 

He supposed for a long time he hadn’t known she was a Jedi, and after that… It was skirting too close to the chasm of difference between them. So yes, probably it had been fear. The potential to drive a wedge between them had been too great. 

"Of course they would feed you propaganda," Cal said with a sigh. "Even before the Clone Wars, I guess some people didn't understand what Jedi were. There were books, media..." He shook himself out of the memories. "It doesn't help to know the truth now. We belong to the Dark Side, and there's no going back from that."

Was that true? The possibility of using the Light hadn't seriously been on Luke's radar before, and he still didn't _want_ it, but this made him wonder. There seemed to be a lot of things that people believed about the Force, the Sith, and the Jedi that just weren't correct. One topic at a time though. "So maybe the Jedi did feel emotions," he said. "They didn't use those emotions to draw on the Force though did they? That's the Dark Side."

Cal hesitated. "That's... mostly right. It's been so long that it's hard to remember what the Light felt like then. It was... reaching out, making a connection, and letting the Force come to us. The Light isn't at all like the Dark Side - the Dark is intoxicating, overwhelming. Following the will of the Light was... like being taken gently by the hand and guided somewhere. A nudge in the right direction. I can't imagine doing that with the Dark. I have to fight it just to still be _me_ ; if I let it guide me it feels like it would wash me away completely and leave nothing at all behind."

That sounded uncomfortably familiar to the mistake Luke had made when meditating on Arkanis. Even so, that had been when he dived right into the Dark Side without any goal of his own. He'd never had a problem with feeling overwhelmed by it otherwise. It obeyed his commands easily, working alongside him like they were two podracer engines pulling in sync with each other. Yes, there were times when it had urged him to take pleasure in the pain of others, to lash out with the viciousness that Cal seemed to be talking about, but he had always been able to shrug that off without difficulty. 

Was it really so difficult for Cal to do the same? 

Something of his thoughts must have shown on his face, because Cal asked, "It's not like that for you?"

Luke nodded. "I've always been able to control the Dark Side. It's as though... when we feel the same emotion, we want the same things, but the emotions are mostly coming from me. Not from it. It’s sharing, not overpowering." It wasn't a very good way of explaining it, and the Dark didn't have the level of consciousness his words implied, but he couldn't think of a better simile. 

"Even compassion?" Cal still couldn't seem to believe it.

"Why is compassion such a "Light" emotion anyway?"

"Because it isn't selfish," Cal replied, as though it should be obvious. "Jedi were encouraged to be compassionate for others."

"Then compassion isn't the right word for what I feel," Luke said. "If you think the Dark can only be about selfish emotions, well, that's what this is!"

"How can wanting to help people be selfish?" Cal asked. "And don't say because it makes you happy. That can't be it - it can't be _enough_."

How could he explain all of the things he felt, this whole other side of the Dark? Perhaps only by showing it to Cal the way he had to Ezra. Luke thought about Zar, about Tatooine, about all the people who didn't stand a chance in the galaxy and let the surge of determination well up inside of him and into the Dark. It rose around him like beating wings, like a shape far larger than his own, like hearts beating and lungs breathing and bodies moving as one. "Because I want to save them," he said. "I want to protect them - and if I claim that right, if I _have_ that right, it means that they are _mine_ . Not mine like slaves, like property, but mine like _family._ "

He felt it hit them, felt them react as the Force pressed down on them. He didn't mean it to harm them though and so it didn't. Instead it was comfort; the pressure of an embrace. It was warmth without the intensity of Mustafar or Tatooine's heat. They were his friends and so they too were his to protect.

"You are something very different," Merrin said, her eyes wide. 

"This is the Dark too," Luke said. He wanted Cal to understand this, to not have to believe that pain and destruction and all the evils the Jedi claimed of the Sith were all that there was. "It's caring, deeply, and using that to find the determination to do something about it." 

Cal breathed out in a long, shuddering sigh. "Yeah," he said quietly, smile soft and eyes glistening. "Yeah, I think I see that now."

\----

After what had turned into a much more prolonged conversation than Cal thought any of them had expected, Merrin guided them further into the fortress to a room with a proper table and chairs, sat them down, and disappeared to fetch some food. Cal wasn't sure if she was trying to leave him alone to talk to Luke some more, but he really didn't know what he wanted to say. He was still reeling from all the revelations this terrifyingly powerful sixteen year old had thrown his way. 

It wasn't just that Luke had been hiding a kind centre beneath the exterior of a loyal Inquisitor and Sith in training, but that his real self was so much stranger than Cal could ever have imagined. Strong enough to resist the corrupting influence of the Dark Side, the torture of Project Harvester, the lure of Imperial propaganda, and come out the other side caring about people so much that he forced the Dark itself to reshape to his will. _If_ that was what he'd done. The waves of emotion and power coming off him earlier hadn't been the Dark as Cal knew it in any aspect, but what did he really know? The Sith had been in hiding for millennia, numbers dwindling until they were just two, a single line of Master and Apprentice. Temple history lessons had told him there used to be a Sith Empire, many Lords of the Sith fighting against the Jedi and doing their best to conquer the galaxy. What knowledge had been lost in the time in between? Was it possible that Luke had stumbled onto something ancient? 

For the first time in a long time, Cal allowed himself to wish he had the resources of the Temple Library to hand. The padawan he used to be would never have been allowed to go searching old holocrons for Sith secrets, but perhaps Master Tapal... 

He had to take a few deep, steadying breaths at the reminder of his Master. He had let the worst pain of his grief and guilt go to the Force during his quest with Cere and Greez and Merrin a decade ago, but that didn't mean the hurt wasn't still there in his bones. 

Jedi Masters authorised by the council could enter the vault and examine the holocrons stored there, vast ages of lore tucked away and sealed with the Force. They could study the Sith of old without being drawn in by the temptation of power. Maybe there had been something in there about other ways to use the Dark Side, still selfish and personal and far from the Jedi philosophy of trying to do the greatest good for the greatest number and turning to violence only as a last resort, but less evil than the way of Sidious and Vader. 

Luke sat there patiently waiting for Merrin to return, all that strength and determination tucked back inside himself, normal and unassuming again both physically and in the Force. What must his shields be like to hide all that? The other Sith never bothered. 

No. That wasn’t true. The Emperor must have done something similar during the Clone War otherwise someone would have noticed what he was. Something else Luke had worked out on his own, or something he’d been taught? Even after all that, even after being certain that Luke was being honest with them, familiar habits of paranoia still gripped Cal’s mind. 

Finally Merrin came back with a pot full of hot tea that tasted like smoke, and balls of soft bread that had spiced meat and vegetables concealed in their core. It was unfamiliar food to Cal, but very good all the same. The meat was probably spider or some unusual swamp creature, but he had eaten far stranger things. 

“Thank you for sharing your intentions with us Luke,” Merrin said, pouring him a cup of tea. “It wasn’t why I asked you there though.”

“Oh, yeah,” Luke said, hurriedly swallowing his mouthful. “I got a bit carried away.”

“It’s to do with what you told me before?” Cal asked. Merrin had spoken of a dark, yet oddly familiar presence somewhere out in the swamps away from the main citadel, but still within Nightsister territory. 

Merrin nodded. “I have sensed no change in it, but I do not like that it is there. You two know the Dark Side better than I. I need your help to discover the cause and perhaps, drive it out.”

“Of course we’ll help,” Luke said. “Just let me finish eating. This is really good, by the way.”

\----

Since they had the shuttle it was much easier to fly out to the site than walk. Luke was getting better at piloting the shuttle quickly, but as they descended towards the swamps the air became thick and muggy, full of a heavy mist that came off the water and caught the reddish light of Dathomir’s sun in billowing clouds of crimson. Cal brought them in to a final landing, following Merrin’s directions. Tangled plant life grew all around them blocking off the view, but their destination was still obvious. It was the gaping mouth of a cave, wider than it was tall, a mixture of natural features and stone shaped by humanoid hands. Hanging above the main entrance was a sculpture in the form of a stylised female face, or perhaps a mask. Its own mouth led down and connected with the chasm of the hall below, where statues in various states of disrepair appeared to support the roof on their outstretched hands. They clearly weren’t structural, because the ceiling was still perfectly solid despite the fact that several of the forms now lay in pieces around the entrance. 

Luke could sense that the Dark Side was strong here. It lay over everything with a melancholy air, and as he turned his head to look around he heard the faintest echo of screams, distant and unreal. Grief and loss and pain turned the humid air cold and had the hair prickling up the back of his neck. 

_Something_ had been here for sure. He didn’t know what. 

Merrin took a deep breath and walked forwards, her spine straight as a durasteel rod. “I could not pass before,” she said. “Perhaps now…” She stopped at the threshold. Spitting green fire rose around her feet, spreading in a line left and right. She reached a hand forward and snatched it back with a cry of pain as more fire and a swirl of smoke bit at it. 

Cal rushed forwards to check that she was okay. Luke stared into the darkness of the cavern beyond. He sensed malice coming from within, a directed, vengeful anger. 

“I am fine,” Merrin was saying to Cal. “It is the same as before. The magic will not let me go any further.”

“This looks like a place of the Nightsisters though,” Cal said. “Why would it stop you?”

Merrin shook her head. “I don’t know. Perhaps something within is dangerous to me. I was still young, still learning, when my people died. I had to figure out the magic based on writings and experimentation. Perhaps I missed something important.” 

“Will the magic stop us from going in?” Luke asked, coming closer. He called on a spark of anger at Merrin’s pain and let the Dark run through him, humming in his veins, then reached out himself. There was a brief moment of something like resistance but then it was gone. He stepped past Merrin and into the shadows. 

“Should we go on without you?” Cal asked. “This looks like a sacred place - I don’t want to tread where we don’t belong.” 

“When the Nightsisters still lived men were allowed in our places only on sufferance," Merrin said, looking uncertain. “They said they would explain why this was once I was older. But I’m the only one left and I can’t even get in here. If it will accept you and not me… It is the only way.” 

"We'll be respectful," Luke said. The cavern was cold now that he was inside, the air still damp from the standing water of the swamps outside. It made the chill worse, and he had to suppress a shiver. 

Merrin watched them with a worried expression as they headed towards the centre of this strangeness in the Force. The walls gradually changed from shaped to natural stone, the rock worn away by the action of water over ages. The ceiling arched high overhead out of sight, forming a vast cavern before them. There were more buildings in here, a whole quiet village constructed within the sheltered embrace of this cave. Bridges connected a series of islands, dark water winding its way between them. As Luke and Cal crossed the nearest bridge, metal braziers set around the platform ahead roared suddenly alight, glowing with familiar green flames. 

"Nightsister magic," Cal said uneasily. "This feels like a trap."

"Merrin did say the magic might be trying to protect her by keeping her out," Luke agreed. The Dark Side was here though, separate from the wild, unfamiliar energies of Dathomir. The locus of malice and grief and hate was close by. It seemed to be coming from the nearest and largest of the buildings. "Inside?"

Cal nodded. "Inside."

Steps led up and through a narrow door. It took a moment for their eyes to grow accustomed to the darkness, but then the sheer mess of all the things strewn around the space became clear. Luke ran his fingers over some kind of staff before his attention was caught by one wall that seemed entirely covered in scraps of flimsi, each one filled with red, scrawling script. He leaned in closer, trying to figure out the cramped writing, but he couldn't make head nor tail of it. Either way this stuff had to belong to someone. There wasn't enough dust for it to have been abandoned for long. 

A lightsaber ignited with a snap-hum behind him; Luke turned to see that Cal was touching his blade gently to the wicks of candles - they covered half of the surfaces in here. Gradually the light grew around them, soft and flickering. 

"What is this place?" Luke wondered aloud. 

"I'm not sure," Cal replied. "Not what it was once intended to be, at least."

"Hello!" Luke called out. If someone was still living in here, they must already realise they weren't alone, but it didn't hurt to show they didn't mean any harm. 

There were tables of stone and wood, strange bits of metal, crates and boxes and all sorts of things in here. He picked his way carefully amongst it, listening carefully for any kind of reply. There was nothing. This place was totally silent aside from the noise that he and Cal were making. Luke turned a corner and jumped slightly. A face was staring down at him. After the brief initial movement of shock it was obviously just a painting, and a bit of an abstract one at that. He turned back to see that Cal had pulled one of his gloves off and was running his hand along the top of a table. 

"Anything?" Luke asked. 

Cal frowned. "Just more of the same feeling that fills the air in here. Old, powerful hate." He took his hand away and wiped it against his trousers almost unconsciously. 

Luke turned back to the painting. It was damaged - cut through where the figure's neck was. Looking at it gave him an uneasy feeling. He stepped over a tangle of junk and moved closer. As the candle-light played across it, it almost seemed to move, to writhe. The frame was resting on a stone platform, and there was something else there too - a stand holding... Was that a lightsaber hilt?

"Cal," he said, pointing. "Does this look familiar?" All the Inquisitor's lightsabers looked the same, but the old Jedi ones in that trophy room on Mustafar had been different, a whole array of colours and materials and little personal touches. It might be unlikely, but maybe Cal would recognise it. 

Cal frowned and came over to join him. "It looks old," he said, then took a few more steps forwards and picked it up. 

Almost immediately he cried out and collapsed like a puppet with its strings cut. "Cal!" Luke shouted, and rushed forwards to help him. 

Cal's gaze was blank, staring off somewhere into the far distance, and his hand was clutched tight around the hilt. Luke knelt down next to him and reached out with the Force, trying to sense what was affecting him. His touch brushed across the surface of Cal's shields and he saw a flash of an image, a room full of armoured people, a pure black blade falling, a head rolling and a body collapsing. Then it vanished, and Cal sat up groaning.

"Are you alright?" Luke asked him. His concern was pulling the Dark Side around them like a shelter, but it did not come as easily as he was used to. The aura of hate and pain was stamped into this place too deeply. 

"Fine," Cal said, looking down at the lightsaber he was still holding. "I should know better by now than to touch unfamiliar sabers."

"What happened?"

"My psychometry," Cal replied. "It can be... intense. Kyber crystals bind to their owners, pick up on their emotions and experiences. It can be hard to remember I'm not them, when it catches me up in the memories like that. This thing is very old. It's seen a lot, shed a lot of blood." He pressed the activation stud and the blade shot out. It was midnight black, a buzzing hole cut out of the world haloed in light. 

"I've never seen a lightsaber like that."

"It's famous," Cal said, with a rueful smile. "It's called the Darksaber. It was built by the first Mandalorian Jedi, and it's been the mark of the rulers of Mandalore ever since."

"Then how did it get to Dathomir and end up in a place like _this?_ " Luke said, gesturing around at the cramped, untidy building they found themselves in. 

"I saw... a Sith." Cal's brow furrowed in confusion. "I don't know what that means. There's a lot about the Clone Wars I didn't know. I was just a padawan, thrown into the war because I had to follow my Master. In hindsight, I think he tried to keep the worst of it away from me. All the reports, the names thrown about on the Holonet News, it didn't mean very much to me. I know Mandalore fell but I assumed it was to the Separatists."

"A Sith who's still alive _now?_ " Luke asked. 

"There's only supposed to be two, but... yes I think so," Cal said. "I saw him, briefly. Felt the depths of his hate. It was so much..." He shuddered. "If he was there during the Clone Wars... Sidious was the Chancellor. Darth Vader wasn't around - or I don't _think_ he was. The Sith were still in hiding. So where does this Sith fit in?"

"Maybe he isn't connected to Darth Sidious at all," Luke suggested. "Maybe there are other Sith lines out there."

Cal started to shake his head, then hesitated. "When Master Tapal told me about the threat of the Sith, he said it had been hard to believe that even one Master and Apprentice line had survived all of the centuries since the great war, even after Obi-wan Kenobi killed one of them on Naboo. I suppose though, if Darth Sidious went undetected for so long why _not_ others?"

"So this Sith was alive on Mandalore during the Clone War and he came here with that." Luke waved at the Darksaber. "Where is he now? And why Dathomir?"

"He's a zabrak," Cal replied. "Maybe he's from here originally."

"Do you think he knew, when he came back?" Luke said, the sudden possibility of tragedy striking him. "About what happened to the Nightsisters, and everyone else?"

Cal sighed. "I don't know. He's not here now though, and I didn't get any sense of why not."

"If he was going somewhere for long, wouldn't he have taken his lightsaber?" Luke said, frowning. 

"This wasn't his only saber. I saw him wielding another - a more traditional red blade."

Luke couldn't help the wave of frustration, the sense of missing out on something by minutes. It wasn't anywhere near as close as that of course, it could easily have been months since the last time the other Sith was here, but... If there were other Sith out there, other options that weren't Sidious, other lines who might be keeping knowledge from that ancient lost Sith Empire... He deeply wanted to talk to them. 

"I guess at least we have an answer for Merrin," he said. "What are we going to do now? Is he going to come back any time soon?"

"If Sidious or Vader found out we kept this from them, we're dead for sure," Cal told him. "I'm just pointing that out. And... Sidious might be pleased to learn about this. Pleased enough to spare our lives."

Luke shook his head. "Or he already knows about this place and it doesn't help us at all."

"There's already a Sith Master and a Sith Apprentice. This... this is competition."

"So am I," Luke pointed out. "This zabrak... maybe he could come in handy. Maybe he could help."

Cal gave him a wary look. "Perhaps. I suppose it can stay secret for now."

"You wouldn't want him to look too hard at Dathomir anyway," Luke added. 

"No, you're right," Cal said, standing up and replacing the Darksaber on its stand. "Better leave this here then. Merrin will keep an eye on this place. If the Sith comes back, so will we."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some important conversations, and things that will come up again later. ;)


	32. Chapter 32

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Darth Vader experiences some unfamiliar feelings, and encounters an old acquaintance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An extra chapter as a New Year's Eve present. I wouldn't expect to continue to publish more than one chapter per week, but please enjoy.

**3 BBY - Castle Vader, Mustafar, Mustafar System, Atravis Sector, Outer Rim Territories**

Vader’s mind returned often to Fifteenth Brother’s questions, and to the meaning behind them. This nigh on heretical idea of family. The ghost of Padmé was never far from him at any time but now the memories and the aching sense of loss flooded every waking moment. Their relationship had been one of minutes and hours snatched away from the demands of the war, wonderful but always ever so slightly tainted by the knowledge that his duty was waiting. That he could not devote himself to Padmé as he should. 

The end of the war should have changed that. The Empire should have been his gift of peace to share with her, a gift for his unborn child as well. He would never know that child now. Never see them achieve their potential. Never know them as a person, rather than as a promise. Instead there had been the agony of Obi-wan's betrayal, Padmé's death, all of the blood shed for nothing. 

He could not shed the past. The pain of these memories gave him power in the Dark Side - nor did Vader _deserve_ to forget them. So then what could his new Apprentice mean to him? What could he _afford_ for the boy to mean to him? 

He could not be a replacement for things he had lost. That was an insult, an attempt to erase and forget the past. Yet perhaps it didn't have to be. Perhaps Fifteenth Brother was right, speaking from ignorance though he was. 

It might be possible for new things to be built. New bonds. Vader did not want to lose his apprentice. He did not want the boy to die, at the hands of Jedi or at the hands of Vader’s Master. Teaching him was a pleasure, it was satisfying, it eased something inside of him that he found hard to define. This felt like understanding the ambitions he was _meant_ to possess as a Lord of the Sith for the first time - continuing the lineage, passing on knowledge, surpassing and replacing his own Master.

Fifteenth Brother was his to protect, was he not? Even now he was at risk. The Emperor asked much of him considering that he was still little more than a boy, and now there was a deadline for him to succeed. If this had been any other Inquisitor, anyone he cared about less, Vader would have agreed that there was only one punishment for failure, and that an acolyte of the Dark Side should prove themselves or perish. Mercy was not a Sith quality, nor was leniency. 

Will and determination was, however. If it was Vader’s wish for his apprentice to live, then he had every right to stamp his desires upon the galaxy and do whatever was necessary to make it reality. 

He knew from Third Brother’s submitted reports that they had eliminated some insurgents on Garel but the Jedi had escaped once again. There was no sign of where they might be looking next. Vader had little success to show for all his efforts in tracking Kenobi, but he knew his former Apprentice. Perhaps that knowledge would assist in finding the hiding place of Ahsoka Tano and her associates. 

Vader would offer the boy his aid. His Master did not need to know about it. 

\----

**3 BBY - Lothal, Lothal System, Lothal Sector, Outer Rim Territories**

Luke answered Darth Vader’s holocall with no small amount of trepidation. He had no idea why he would be calling; there were still two weeks to go before the Emperor’s deadline, and he had to devote all of his attention to his mission. There wasn’t any time to return to Mustafar, if this was about his training. Nor was there anything to report aside from an ongoing lack of leads. 

He hoped this wasn’t about the trip to Dathomir. There was no reason anyone should have known about that, but perhaps Vader had seen something through the Force. 

“Fifteenth Brother,” Vader said, once the call had connected. “Your search for the Jedi is proceeding?”

“We’ve had no firm leads on the Rebels after Garel,” Luke said. He hated saying that out loud; it made an edge of panic start clawing its way up his throat. The sensation of being trapped would tighten around him the moment he let himself think about it. 

Vader nodded. He did not appear surprised. “Previously the Force guided your hunt.”

That was true, but the Dark Side didn't give up that kind of knowledge easily. “I’ve spent a lot of time in meditation. I haven’t picked up on anything. It took several weeks last time, but I can’t think of anything else to do!” Luke clenched his jaw shut on the flood of worry that threatened to spill out. Had Vader called him just to rub his nose in his lack of progress? 

“Perhaps Imperial intelligence in the Lothal sector requires additional motivation,” Vader said. “Providing information regarding rebel activity is also their responsibility. I will _remind_ them of their duty.”

“You… you’re coming here?” Was this an offer of help? Luke had assumed Vader was still angry at him after his questions on Mustafar, but perhaps he actually cared about him more than Luke thought. At the very least it looked like he wanted him to survive the consequences of Darth Sidious’ displeasure. 

“Briefly, young one.” Vader pointed at his chest. “I do not intend to be there long. Do not grow accustomed to my presence.”

\----

**3 BBY - ISD-** **_Devastator_ ** **, orbiting Lothal, Lothal System, Lothal Sector, Outer Rim Territories**

Luke wasn’t present for most of Vader’s whirlwind tour through the local Imperial forces and the gossip about it wasn’t shared openly with him since everyone knew he fell under Vader’s command structure, but he still heard about it anyway. There had been at least a dozen impromptu executions, ‘for encouragement’, although in terms of actual _leads_ all the violence hadn’t improved matters. Luke didn't know what he had expected from the Sith Lord's help, but this shouldn't have come as a surprise. Did Vader think Luke and Cal should have been doing this sort of thing all along? He hoped not. 

He had to accept that his father was not a good person. It was just that knowing it didn’t seem to change any of the complicated feelings he had about him. 

Vader had summoned him to his Star Destroyer for a meeting before he headed out again on his own business. If Luke's hunt continued this badly, it might be the last time they would ever see each other. The thought was a horrible one; it felt like a festering wound in his chest. There wasn't anything Vader could do to save him. This was down to Luke to fight for his own survival, but he knew that he might still fail. He would die, and Ezra Bridger would be right - he would have nothing to show for his actions. He would have hurt the galaxy more than he would have helped it. 

If this was goodbye, then it also might be the last chance Luke would have to tell Vader the truth. 

Would telling him change anything? It would make things feel much, much worse if he told Vader he was his son and Vader didn’t react. If kinship turned out to mean nothing to him. At least if Luke kept it secret he could die still holding onto the hope that things could have been different. 

Vader met him in his personal quarters on board _Devastator._ The rooms were sparsely decorated, severe examples of the black, white, and red brutalist style that guided the design of so many Sith places on Mustafar and beyond. Instead of a desk or a bed or something similar there was a large black device set in the middle of the room - two halves like a shell that obviously clicked into place against each other. Inside the midnight sheen of plasteel it was bare white, set around its circumference with an entire console of controls, computer inputs, comms equipment and so on. Strange machinery clustered in the upper shell. Vader sat in the centre of it all, his hands resting on his knees. 

"Apprentice," he said, as Luke came into the room. 

"Lord Vader." There was no point pretending he wasn't looking around in fascination at all of this, but Vader didn't seem to mind his obvious curiosity. 

"The Force has communicated no new leads?"

Luke shook his head. Once again fear shot icy adrenaline through his veins. Hours and minutes ticked on towards his doom. 

"I have been remiss in one thing," Vader said, appearing to change the subject. "You are my apprentice but we do not yet have a training bond." 

The concept sounded familiar - Cal had talked about a bond like that before. Luke imagined it as something like the bond he shared with Leia, that let them communicate and share dreams over great distances. He thought they had one because they were related - the idea of having a similar bond with Vader was painfully ironic. "How would we do that?" he asked. 

"I will guide you through the process," Vader said, reaching out his hand and gesturing for Luke to approach. "Come, meditate with me." 

Luke came over and sat down cross-legged to match Vader's own position. He hesitated to say it, but he had to know... "I might be dead in a couple of weeks. Why are you even bothering with this?" 

The temperature around him noticeably dropped as Vader's fury sparked into the Dark. His hand tightened into a fist. "I do not intend for that to happen," he said, his rumbling baritone threatening violence - but not aimed at Luke. 

A small sliver of warmth worked in past the fear and dread clutching Luke's heart in their tight grasp. Vader meant it. He didn't waste his words on idle promises. The Sith _cared_ about him, otherwise he would never bother to challenge the Emperor’s wishes like this. "The Emperor..." he said. 

"The Emperor will not destroy you." The blank eyes of Vader's helmet seemed to bore into Luke's. He checked his shields automatically, but they still held strong. Vader couldn’t feel his own emotions, couldn’t tell what he was thinking - not yet. "You understand the ways of the Sith, my Apprentice?"

Luke nodded. The Apprentice kills the Master and takes their place. Had they really come to that point? It seemed far too soon. "Do you think I'm ready Lord Vader?" he asked. He didn't dare ask if Vader thought _himself_ ready to face his Master.

"That does not matter. Events will come to us whether we are ready or not, but when the time comes we will face him together."

"Yes." Luke let out a shaky breath. The idea was exciting, almost intoxicating. Father and son, fighting and killing their enemy side by side, striking down one who was _truly_ evil and changing things for the better. 

"Come. The bond will be necessary."

Luke didn't want to rely on hate and anger for this, not with the sense of potential and possibility hanging in the air between them like a gift. He wanted to use this sense of warm affection, of kinship, of... love, he supposed. He wanted the Dark of the pack, not of the lone and hungry hunter. As always the Force responded to his call, sinking into him and filling him utterly, absorbing and intensifying each emotion until they spilled out of him in a riot of strength and power. Only a few feet away Vader was a wall of midnight, a darkness so thick and heavy that it was a solid thing. 

Vader reached out towards him in the Force. That weight leaned against Luke's shields, wrapped around him like a blanket. _Like an embrace_ , some part of Luke thought. 

_Let me in, young one_ , Vader said, a voice whispering over the outside of his mind. He sounded different, lighter somehow. How much of his voice was the suit? 

Luke hesitated for a moment about letting down his shields. He didn't want Vader to see all of his secrets about Leia, or about Cal and Merrin, and he had no idea how this was going to work. It wasn't like Leia automatically knew everything that Luke did, so he didn't _think_ Vader would find out unless he was looking specifically, but he didn't really know for sure. Gently, gradually, he parted the layers of protection woven over his mind and let Vader's presence slip inside. 

For a brief moment, Luke felt a flash of deep fondness that didn't feel like his own at all. As Vader sunk deeper into his mind he realised it had to have come from the Sith. He had the sudden urge to blurt out the truth of their relationship, but something still held him back. Wasn't it enough - or in some ways even more comforting - that Vader felt this way about him despite the fact he didn't know Luke was his son? This was something Vader had _chosen_ , something based on qualities Luke had that he liked, not just the fact that they were related. 

Vader delved deep into the recesses of Luke's mind, leaving a trail of warmth in his wake. Luke didn't know what he was doing there, but he felt it the moment that something changed. There was a flash on connection, a moment where it seemed as though he was looking out of two sets of eyes and feeling the sensation from two different bodies. He had a brief impression of a film of red lying over the world, an itching, burning pain lighting up his skin and aching in his bones... then it was gone again. 

Vader withdrew, but a part of him was left behind. It was more there, more _present_ , than the bond Luke had with his sister. Was that because Vader was his father, or was it because it was a ‘training bond’? Certainly Vader didn't appear to sense anything unusual about it. 

"There," Vader said. "Now you can communicate with me even if we are apart. Call out, and I will hear you, my Apprentice."

"Thank you," Luke said. He could still feel a faint echo of Vader's emotions, even though he had retreated from Luke's mind and was back behind his own durasteel shields. "I... I won't disappoint you." 

A hint of warmth came along the bond towards him - the warmth of pride. "I am certain you shall not."

**\----**

**3 BBY - ICC-** **_Relentless_** **, patrolling the Lothal Sector, Outer Rim Territories**

As the _Ghost_ blurred into hyperspace above them, Alexsandr Kallus was very aware of Darth Vader's eyes on his back. It was just his luck that the Sith Lord was still in the system when that report about the two lasat was delivered. He had done his best to argue it was highly unlikely that the Spectre cell had anything to do with these few scattered remnants of Lasan, but Vader just looked at him with that expressionless mask and told him that he was 'much mistaken'. Alexsandr didn't even know why a man who was reportedly second to the Emperor himself - or at the very least the famed weapon of his will - would concern himself with this one small group of insurgents. That was what the Inquisitors were for. 

There was even an Inquisitor _with_ them. Fifteenth Brother had turned up acting the part of Vader's shadow, walking at his shoulder and at times almost seeming to disappear into the folds of his cloak. Alexsandr didn't know where the other one was - perhaps following a lead of their own equally as tenuous. He would have swapped Third Brother for these two in a heartbeat. He understood Third Brother, as he had understood the Grand Inquisitor. To some extent he even thought he understood Darth Vader based on the mixture of gossip and verified reports that made up Kallus' knowledge about his military career. It was the teenager at his heels that concerned him. 

Alexsandr still couldn't get the image of that well-used shock collar out of his head. He knew that the Empire could be harsh, but only where it was necessary. The galaxy was a vile and dangerous place. It needed a firm hand to keep control of the reins. Any excess of cruelty in Imperial protocols was directed at people who deserved it, not towards its loyal citizens and servants who had committed no crimes. That was what he always told himself whenever some of his own weakness reared its head and he flinched away from doing what was necessary. It was what he used to reassure himself after Lasan. It was for the greater good. It was what had to be done. There was no other choice. 

Doubt still crept in around the edges. 

When had this Inquisitor's training first started? How old had he been when someone slid a collar around his neck? Had that person been Vader himself, or someone who served him? How could _that_ be justified? 

The Inquisitors were something not unlike Jedi. Alexsandr would be the first to admit that he only knew a little about the old Order, and of course their attempted coup proved that as a political organisation they'd been power-hungry and deceitful, but he thought it would have come out at some point if they were so dangerous before they were trained that they needed to be kept in line with extreme pain. The rumours about kidnapping children had been bad enough - some journalist _somewhere_ would have investigated if there was even a whisper that they were electrocuting younglings, wouldn't they? 

The communications terminal pinged. One of the pilots put the call through immediately - it must have been flagged as urgent. 

The stormtrooper sergeant on the other end saluted, then said, "Sir, the rebels escaped with the two lasat, but I think we have a way to find them." Behind him, two more troopers dragged a slender weequay man into range of the transmitter. He looked a disreputable sort, an impression only confirmed by the fact that he was clearly used to the experience of being in cuffs. 

“Well good news,” the man said, with a too-eager smile. “I am willing to help.”

“ _That_ is not in doubt,” Alexsandr said, an automatic sneer pulling at his mouth. “Where are the rebels going?”

“Oho my good sir, you will need to bring me along on your fine cruiser for that,” the weequay said, laughing. 

“Now why should I do that?” Kallus was momentarily distracted by the fact that Vader's attention appeared to have been drawn by the conversation; he was staring at the small figure on the holo with great intensity. Bringing this weequay scum on board should be an _experience_ for the man. Perhaps it would even scare him out of his life of crime, though Kallus didn't actually have any proof that he was a criminal yet, aside from the balance of probability. 

“So I can guide you, of course! I _may_ have a tracker on them, but such proprietary technology…”

Alexsandr sighed. He knew this kind of person. It would be easier to go along with him for now. There must be some personal reason he wanted to come along, perhaps as petty as revenge, or as simple as one of the insurgents owing him money. This was the expected result when the rebels were so keen to associate with the criminal element of the galaxy. “Very well,” he said. “My troopers will bring you aboard.” 

**\----**

Ah, in the thick of things again! That was the most interesting and of course the most profitable place to be in Hondo’s experience. War was always good for business, even this small, slow-burning civil war between the Empire and his good friends in the… what did they call it again? The Alliance to Restore the Republic? Yes, yes, all very noble, and all very foolish. The unfortunate downturn in his personal circumstances aside, things had hardly changed when the Empire took over. There were still plenty of opportunities to make credits. 

This was just one more of those. Dear Ezra would naturally understand. He always did. 

The stormtroopers led him up onto the bridge, where that very official looking human with the impressive sideburns was waiting. Hondo offered him one of his most winning smiles, but got only a lifted eyebrow in return for his troubles. His companions now, _they_ were interesting. Why would the famous military commander and fist of the Empire Darth Vader be looking for these... oh yes, of course. Jedi. Hondo would have slapped his own forehead if his arms were not being held by two strong stormtroopers. How could he have forgotten the bounties for information about Jedi and who precisely was responsible for paying those bounties out? Darth Vader famously hated Jedi. It was some religious matter, irreconcilable philosophical differences, he remembered that much from the Clone Wars. Those Jedi did rather go on about their 'ancient enemies the Sith'. 

One did meet such fascinating people when robbing them blind, or capturing and ransoming them, or doing other nefarious-type deeds. 

Vader was not the only person here who perhaps followed that Sith cult. The young man standing beside him had those same very fetching golden eyes that Count Dooku possessed, or those two horned maniacs who had tried to muscle in on his operation. Hondo was not ignorant of the ways of the world. Dooku had not been a mere politician, and he moved too easily for a human of his advanced years. Yes, he had been a Jedi once, but there had to be a reason he left their Order. Converting to another cult made sense as being that reason. It wasn't just the eyes giving it away of course. It was also the thing that was obviously a lightsaber mag-locked to the back of his all-black uniform. 

"Well now," Hondo said as the troopers shoved him forwards onto the bridge. He bowed, and his breath fogged out into the air in front of him. Were the atmospheric controls broken or something? Why else was it so kriffing cold up here? Never mind. "Hondo Ohnaka at your service. Shall we discuss the matter of my payment before we begin?”

“We can discuss payment _after_ the rebels are in our hands,” Sideburns said with a sneer. “Not before.”

“Of course, of course,” Hondo said. “The Empire is an honourable employer and always pays its debts I am sure.”

"Hondo Ohnaka." Vader's voice was just as deep and threatening as in all the propaganda holos, it turned out. "What are _you_ doing here?"

Hondo laughed nervously. "Have we met, my lord? I am fairly sure I would recall such a thing."

"No." The denial came too quick and sharp to be the truth. Hondo had never thought about who Darth Vader was behind his mask before, but now his natural curiosity was eating him alive. He liked his trachea in one piece though. He wasn't going to ask more than once. 

"What were you doing close enough to the rebels to plant a tracker in the first place?" the young Sith asked. 

"Simply doing business," he replied. "I didn't _know_ they were wanted by the Empire! Still, I am glad I planted a tracker on them all the same - for luck and for my own security, and now for the benefit of the Empire."

"You didn't notice anything suspicious about them at all?" the boy asked, disbelieving. Hondo couldn’t blame him. He wouldn’t have believed him either. 

“I am just interested in making money, my friend,” he said. 

“As one would expect from a pirate.” That was Sideburns speaking. He held up a datapad. “Did you think we wouldn’t run your name?”

Well, Hondo had _hoped_ they wouldn’t. “Retired pirate,” he said. “Very retired.”

"I doubt that very much," Darth Vader said, which yes, sounded very much like a threat. Was it getting hard to breath in here? That might just be fear. 

“The rebels have a number of criminal contacts,” Small Sith said. “Remind us why you were in the area, exactly?”

This was not going to plan. “Why does it matter?” Hondo said, laughing. “I am giving you what you want, am I not?”

The young man hummed thoughtfully. He was about Ezra’s age, Hondo thought. That didn’t mean much. Many Jedi padawans had been that age and that didn't stop anyone sending them off to war to slice through thousands of deadly battle droids with plasma swords. 

“You must have gotten close to plant that transmitter," Small Sith continued. "Describe the rebels. Which ones are on the _Ghost_ just now?”

“Let me see…” Hondo wasn’t sure why he was asking. If they didn't already know about Kanan and Ezra, why were they even here? “A twi’lek pilot, that lasat, a couple of human males and a human female…”

Vader turned towards Sideburns. "As I said. The Jedi are with them." 

The officer nodded, not looking very enthusiastic. "We could still just blow their ship out of the sky and be done with it," he suggested. 

Small Sith glared at him. "The Jedi are more valuable alive."

“I understand that, Inquisitor.” 

Inquisitor? Not Sith? What was the difference? 

Corellian Hells damn his curiosity, he simply _had_ to know more. "You are looking for Jedi? I thought they were an extinct breed." 

"Not yet," Vader growled. 

"Do you know much about Jedi, pirate?” the little Sith-or-possibly-Inquisitor asked. 

"About _these_ Jedi? Nothing at all!" That was barely a lie. He didn't know Ezra's mentor well, and he had never asked Ezra about his _other_ skills. "Jedi back during the Clone War, now that’s a different story!" The boy looked interested at that and Hondo saw the face of an eager listener. He would never pass up the opportunity to tell a good story. "Several times I had run-ins with the Jedi Generals they called the Hero and the Negotiator..."

"No." The word was deep and final. Hondo blinked. Vader didn't have a face to glare with, but he was managing to do so all the same. 

"My lord Vader, are you calling me a liar?"

"Anyone who has ever heard of you would do so."

For some reason Hondo felt vaguely offended by what was, realistically, a true statement. "Perhaps at times," he said. "But I am not lying about this."

Vader stuck a finger in his face. "No-one is interested in your tall tales."

"I am." 

Hondo gave the boy an incredulous look, but no, there he was challenging Darth Vader. Even Vader turned sharply to stare at him, cloak flicking round him like shifting wings. 

"I only know dry history from the Clone War," the Inquisitor said. "A story would be interesting - and it might be valuable intelligence about the Jedi."

"If you wish for an _accurate_ story, I will discuss this with you later," the Sith Lord said, which raised _even more questions_. 

"It's going to take a while to follow the _Ghost_ through hyperspace," the boy pointed out. "Surely it would be more interesting than standing here in silence."

Vader loomed over the Inquisitor, breath rasping in and out in its measured, sonorous chorus. Then abruptly he said, "After listening to Ohnaka for any length of time you will regret expressing interest in _anything_ he has to say." He turned away and took a few steps closer to the pilots, seeming to fix his attention on the whirling colour of hyperspace beyond the viewscreen. Hondo gave him a wary look, but that seemed to be the end of the conversation as far as the Sith was concerned. 

"So," the small Sith said, cheerfully. "About that story?"

"Ah... yes!" Hondo was deeply regretting his own day at this point, but it was best to make the most out of even a bad situation. "You... you see it is a fine tale! It even starts with another Sith Lord much like yourselves, the uh... _noble_ Count Dooku of Serenno." How to spin this without making the Sith come off looking foolish, now that was the question? Dooku _had_ been his captive, after all. "My crew and I had _pretended_ to capture Count Dooku in order to ransom him to the Republic for a very great sum of money, but of course this was all a ruse to draw the Jedi to us! I knew that Dooku and his Separatists would pay even more dearly for a pair of Jedi as famous and powerful as Obi-wan Kenobi and Anakin Skywalker!"

"Amazing," Vader drawled without turning around. "Only half of that was a lie."

Hondo wanted very much to deny that, but he wasn't certain doing so would be safe. "W-well..." he said, stammering slightly. "The Jedi _would_ have been sold to the Separatists if everything had gone to plan!"

"So what did happen?" the little Sith asked, golden eyes wide and interested. 

"A rare thing indeed! The Jedi and the Sith worked _together_ in order to escape!" Weequay did not sweat, but Hondo might have prefered that to the adrenaline-heat rising off his skin and getting trapped between the layers of his clothing. _Don't_ _focus on Vader_ , he told himself, as he picked his way through the story for the curious Inquisitor. _Focus on the boy, and I'm sure everything will be fine._

Surely this trip through hyperspace couldn’t take _that_ long. 

\----

Hondo Ohnaka was full of stories from the Clone Wars era. Even if Vader hadn't been broadcasting his disapproval laced with the occasional moment of sheer disbelief, Luke would have been able to tell that were all embellished to a greater or lesser degree. There was a heart of truth to them though, and that truth was frequently both fascinating, and involved the duo of Kenobi and Skywalker a statistically unlikely number of times. It was rather odd that this random pirate kept running into those two specific Jedi, one of whom was Luke's father, but he wouldn't second-guess the vagaries of the Force. He could understand why Vader was so annoyed by the weequay though. 

It was nice to hear these tales. He didn't know much about the real Anakin Skywalker, rather than the vague and inaccurate image of him he'd grown up with. It wasn't as though he could ask Vader without explaining _why_ he knew his former identity. There weren't many records of the Jedi or the Clone wars available to the public either, or even that could be accessed with his Inquisitorial clearance. All he had was the propaganda of Arkanis, and that never mentioned Skywalker. Which was suspicious in itself, now he thought about it. 

The way Hondo was telling it, his father had been a hero. 

What that seemed to mean in practise was mostly about winning battles and defeating Separatists - a role not too different to the one he had now. How much of the weequay's memories were coated in the rosy glow of the past? Darth Vader was a hero to plenty of people within the Empire. Everything he'd done over the past sixteen years had been in the service of the Empire, just as it had been in the service of the Republic before that. That didn't mean any of it had been noble or bloodless. Vader won because he was a good tactician, but also because he didn't mind using cruel and oppressive methods. Had that been true when he was a Jedi? 

The Jedi Order had gone wrong in the end, hadn't they? Cal hadn't been able to challenge that part of Arkanis' lessons, but that was more because he'd been too young at the time to know anything about what the Jedi Council might be getting up to or if they really _had_ been planning a coup. 

Hondo was interrupted in the middle of his latest story about bounty hunters when a shudder ran through the ship. One of the control panels started to chirp shrill warnings and one of the helmsmen swivelled in her chair to do something slightly frantic to it. A few moments later the cruiser slid back into realspace, and the entirety of the viewscreen in front of them was taken up by a swirling mass of gas. In the very centre, a tiny white dot against the clouds, was a ship. 

"Oh,” Hondo said, gesturing. “There they are.” 

"Hail that ship," Kallus ordered. Behind rudimentary shielding his mind had gone razor-sharp, attention narrowing in to a point which was that freighter. A rumble of pleasure shot through him, a predator closing in on the kill. He might not be Force-sensitive but everything alive could affect the Force, and the Dark swirled around him greedily. Luke felt Vader take note of that, but he seemed content enough for the ISB officer to take the lead for now. 

A bridge tech nodded as the connection was established. “You’re through sir.” 

“Attention rebels,” Kallus said. “As much as I might like to watch you consumed by the maelstrom before you, I will offer you a chance to surrender, an opportunity for survival.”

Across the open comm, the troubled murmurs of the Spectre crew could just be heard. “How did he even find us?” someone said. After a moment Luke placed it as the lasat, Zeb. Banee's mauled throat flashed into his mind and anger rose burning inside him before he could make any attempt to control it. The Dark churned, responded, focused upon that ship and those upon it as though drawn by a magnet. A growl rose in his throat, an almost animal sound. Hondo and Kallus gave him wary looks, but again he felt the warmth of pride through his bond with Vader. 

"Ah, may I?" Hondo said, edging closer to where he would be picked up over the call. 

"Why?" Vader said. He turned to look at Hondo again for the first time since the pirate had started telling his stories. Hondo immediately stepped backwards, nearly colliding with the stormtroopers that were - supposedly - guarding him. 

"It's... it's not important."

Kallus rolled his eyes slightly. "You have one minute to prepare for boarding," he told the rebels, then gestured to cut the connection. "I assume you will both be boarding with us, Lord Vader, Inquisitor?" 

"You assume correctly," Vader replied. 

Through the viewscreen the _Ghost_ continued on its course towards the wreckage of the star-cluster. There was something… Luke reached out through the Force almost unconsciously. The writhing gasses were still far off and distant, yet he could sense them despite that. They were… as massive and grand and wild in the Force as they were to the naked eye. They were chaos and power, a nexus of energy far vaster than Mustafar, than anything he had yet felt. Something in the _Ghost_ was echoing them, a mere spark against the majesty and terror of a forest fire - tiny yet still kin. 

“Um, sir Sith,” Ohnaka said. “Are your eyes supposed to be glowing?”

Luke felt Vader reaching out through their bond until he could see what Luke was doing. There was a spike of alarm - he moved closer, looming over Luke. It was difficult to stay aware of him though. Even with his black-hole power and presence, the mesmerising awe of this place that could tear apart stars had Luke in its grasp. 

From somewhere far away, Luke heard someone say, "Sir? The rebel ship is moving into the anomaly."

The Dark was burning behind Luke's eyes, throbbing in time with whatever was happening out there in space. “They intend to pass through,” he said, feeling it for the truth. 

“Launch fighters to slow them down,” Kallus ordered to one of the other officers. A pair of TIEs detached from the front of the cruiser and moved forwards, brief darting shapes in the corners of his vision. Luke couldn’t spare them much attention either. The spark in the Force coming from the _Ghost_ was starting to catch and burn brighter, wrapping the ship in wreaths of flames that did not burn. It wasn’t just manifest in the Force - something like yellow electricity was starting to crackle over the hull. The freighter continued its dive towards the vast and terrible star-cluster. Luke couldn’t take his eyes off the swirling pools within the gas. It was like looking at the greatest sandstorm he’d ever seen from above, something primal and primordial, pure chaos and creation. This place spun the Force into something new, something too massive and eternal to care about the pitiful mortal lives scurrying nearby like ants. As the TIEs closed the gap they were caught in the edge of the gravity field and their delicate solar wings were torn into nothing more than scrap. The _Ghost_ sped on, unharmed. 

The world outside the Force fell away. All that was left were the stars, caught in the tearing dance of their own destruction and rebirth. They were beyond the Light and the Dark. They simply were. Snared, entranced, Luke wanted nothing more than to join their ecstatic chaos, to dance with them and among them, to lose himself to them. He wasn't here alone though. There were cords binding him back to the world beyond. One far distant, to a creature of light and flowers and singing crystal, the other so close by that even now it wrapped around him with dark wings, shielding him and protecting him and unwilling to let him go beyond and join the eternal dance. 

_No,_ Vader’s voice said in his mind. _No. You belong **here**_.

It was both those bonds and the familiarity of that temptation that brought some of his sense back. Luke had almost lost himself to the Force once before on Arkanis, and he was fairly sure now that it would have killed him. This was the same thing, an offer of joy and belonging that was still a kind of trap. 

The cruiser was shuddering beneath him. Looking down at his hands he saw flickers of yellow-gold energy coruscating over his skin, already fading. There was a hand heavy on his shoulder; he turned and looked up into Vader's mask. Worry pulsed down the bond towards him. 

_Foolish, young one. Very foolish._

“Pull back,” Kallus was saying. “Full retreat.”

“Yes, you’ll get them next time,” Hondo said. 

“No,” Kallus replied. “I will watch them be destroyed.”

That... would fulfil the mission Luke had been assigned. It wasn't the _good_ ending, but it would be enough - if only it _was_ going to turn out the way that Kallus thought. It wouldn’t. That was the purpose of the energy, the sense of like-calls-like in the Force. It was a barrier of protection, to let them pass through the maelstrom. He shook free of Vader's concerned grasp. 

"They won't be destroyed. They're going to make it to wherever it is they're going."

Frustration painted a snarl over the officer's face. "Our ship cannot survive that maelstrom."

"Not without the same protection that they have." This wasn't something he had a choice about. He couldn't let them escape again. "It's from the Force." He wasn’t sure exactly who was channeling this on board the _Ghost_ , but it didn’t feel like any of the Jedi. This wasn’t the Light Side, but something else. Who did that even leave? The Spectre cell came to rescue two lasat - perhaps one of them was responsible for this strange power. If so then they must know it well enough to avoid being eaten by it - Luke couldn’t say the same. 

Kallus paused. "Can you or Lord Vader replicate it then?"

"I have to," Luke began to say, but Vader interrupted him. 

"No. You shall not."

Luke rounded on him, anger rising. "I can do it!" It didn't matter that he wasn't actually sure about that. They had to proceed. They had to give chase. What did it matter if he died now, or in a few weeks?

"You cannot," Vader said, punctuating his point with a sharp slice of his hand through the air. _You will fail,_ he continued through their bond. _You will die. It will achieve nothing. There will be another chance - and if not, I have already promised to protect you._

Thankfulness clashed with the burning sensations of guilt and disappointment inside Luke's stomach. He couldn't argue with Darth Vader though. Really, he knew that he was right. "Yes, master," he said. 

Kallus cleared his throat, looking desperately awkward. "Then... we're done here?"

Vader gave him a sharp nod. 

"Set course back to the Lothal system," the officer ordered. 

"Agent Kallus," Vader said. "Your report of this mission - you will send it to _me_ for approval." 

There was a brief moment of hesitation - Luke suspected the standing instructions were for those reports to be submitted directly to the Emperor's office. Then Kallus nodded. "Yes, Lord Vader."

Silence fell as the cruiser pulled away from the gravity well, banked, and jumped back into hyperspace. As the blue light engulfed them, Ohnaka raised his hand. “The matter of my payment…?” he said hopefully. 

Vader's hand twitched. The weequay gasped, then started to claw at his neck. The Sith didn't keep it up for long - Luke wondered if he might actually feel _fond_ of the pirate based on their shared history. There didn't seem to be any other reason to spare his life. 

"The rebels escaped," Vader said. "There will be no reward."

Hondo massaged his neck, and managed a weak smile. "Most fair, my lord." 

“It’s a long way back from the unknown regions,” Luke said. “You hadn't finished the story you were telling me.” It would take his mind off the sting of failure. 

Hondo laughed nervously. “As… as you wish, milord Sith.”


	33. Chapter 33

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Narrow escapes, and the search for a way out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you everybody for your wonderful comments! Even though I am frequently bad at answering them, I really do appreciate each and every one!

**3 BBY - ISD-** **_Devastator_ ** **, orbiting Lothal, Lothal System, Lothal Sector, Outer Rim Territories**

Luke could sense a growing storm of worry and concern filtering down his bond with Vader for the whole trip back to the Lothal system, but it was obvious that the Sith didn’t want to have this discussion with him in front of other people. It wasn’t until they were both back on board  _ Devastator _ that Vader rounded on him and said with blistering chill, “You appear very keen on throwing your life away, Fifteenth Brother.”

“That wasn’t what I was trying to do,” Luke objected, even though that wasn’t entirely true. “I just… if it would have meant catching the Jedi… At least it would’ve been in service to the Empire,” he said at last, hoping that rationale would hold some water. 

The sense of deep cold pouring off Vader intensified along with a sense of being deeply unimpressed. “You would have achieved nothing in return,” he said. “It would have been a waste.”

“I  _ could _ have gotten us through the maelstrom. I saw what was happening on the  _ Ghost,  _ in the Force. I could have copied it.”

“You would not have emerged on the other side,” Vader told him. “Not as anything more than a husk. I expect an Inquisitor - no. I expect my  _ Apprentice _ to have more self control than to go throwing himself headlong into the depths of the Force to be devoured. Don’t you know any better…?” He seemed to catch himself then, and after a moment Luke realised that no, Vader thought he  _ couldn’t _ know any better because no-body had ever taught him about this. It certainly hadn’t been part of the standard curriculum at Area Null. 

Only Luke  _ did _ know better. He’d done this before, and scared Ninth Sister - the only time he’d  _ ever _ seen her scared - and she’d warned him to be more careful. Vader himself had even taught Luke what he was doing wrong with his meditation, the lack of focus that put him at risk. He must believe Luke hadn’t understood the purpose of that lesson  _ at all _ .

“I’m sorry,” he said, and nevermind that Sith weren’t meant to apologise, or find  _ receiving  _ an apology pleasant. “I just… this was my one chance.”

“There  _ will _ be others,” Vader said. “Perhaps you do not perceive how your own lack of care is an insult to me?”

Luke blinked, taken off guard. “I… I don’t understand?”

Vader prodded him in the chest. His finger felt as solid as durasteel beneath his armourweave glove. “By claiming you as my Apprentice, I have proclaimed that you have value to me. If you act so foolishly, so carelessly, you imply that either I was mistaken in my evaluation, or that you have no respect for your worth to me.”

Just taking the words at face value it could have seemed like nothing more than dispassionate, selfish calculation, but Luke could feel the undercurrent of something hurt and almost panicked that ran beneath Vader’s words. This was Vader trying to say that he  _ cared  _ about Luke, as much as he could within the bounds of traditional Sith philosophy. That it would hurt him if Luke threw his life away. 

“Do you doubt that I can protect you?” Vader asked. 

“I don’t doubt your promises Lord Vader,” Luke said. He had no idea how powerful the Emperor really was. He’d never met him in person. Only Vader could judge whether together, they could defeat him. 

Vader nodded. “Do not offer yourself so openly to the Force again,” he said. He reached up, and in a gesture that might have surprised him as much as it surprised Luke, cupped the side of Luke’s face in his hand. He was solid and warm through the glove, and Luke leaned into it with his heart doing something strange and raw inside his chest. “The depths of it, Dark or Light, have no care for you. The desert does not care. The mountain does not care. The sea and the stars do not care. Do not assume that you will survive dashing yourself upon them.” 

“I… I understand. I will be more careful.”

Vader could sense that he meant it. He kept his hand on Luke’s cheek for a few moments longer, then slowly and almost regretfully took it away. “I must return to Mustafar, and then to the search for Kenobi,” he said. “I will reach out to you again before the Emperor’s deadline comes due. We  _ will _ find those Jedi scum.”

Those words said so tenderly shook Luke out of the warm place he’d been in. Leia. Leia was one of those Jedi and Vader didn’t know about her either. He didn’t know she was his daughter - but would he even hesitate if he did? Would he give her the same chance to join them that Luke would, or would he simply cut her down in disgust at the path she’d taken? 

Vader’s head cocked slightly. He must sense something through their bond. He took several large steps away from Luke and turned his back on him. 

“You are dismissed, Fifteenth Brother,” he said. 

_ No, _ Luke wanted to say,  _ I wasn’t feeling that way because of you _ . But he couldn’t explain the true reason. He tried to send a pulse of reassurance down their bond, then left as he’d been instructed. 

He had Jedi to find. 

**\----**

**3 BBY - Moon of Geonosis, Geonosis System, Arkanis Sector, Outer Rim Territories**

Although the shelter of the ice-cave still kept the wind out, Alexsandr hadn’t anticipated how much colder it would feel without Garazeb’s body heat. He clutched the glowing, warm rock closer to his chest and shivered. This was miserable. Perhaps he should have taken a chance with Zeb’s friends after all. Even the cruelties of the rebels might be better than freezing to death here. 

Oh, Zeb might have promised fair treatment, and the Spectre cell might even stick to that, but what exactly were they going to do with an Imperial prisoner? Terrorists didn’t have prisons, and he had no intention of turning traitor himself. Someone higher up the Rebel chain of command would arrange to get as much information out of him as possible and then they would kill him. 

There might have been a chance at escape though. More than could be said for this karking rock. 

Alexsandr supposed he should count himself lucky he had survived this long. He couldn’t defend himself with a broken leg, and if Garazeb had wanted him dead it would have been childishly easy to kill him. The lasat had been more honourable than expected. He hadn’t really thought of them as a people who cared about that concept before - oh he knew what their ways  _ claimed _ , but he’d thought it all pretty lies. His first experience with a lasat had been of a monster prowling the battlefield, not an honourable warrior. He still had nightmares about those claws curving down to slash him open across the throat or belly like the rest of his squad. Those poor injured soldiers… 

Garazeb hadn’t hurt him. He helped him out of that hole when he could have left him there to freeze. He kept silent to his friends about him. Alexsandr couldn’t put the crimes of one individual onto him or the rest of the lasat.

How much longer would he have to wait here? Surely someone was looking for him? 

Time stretched out. He had no means of keeping track of it, only the cold sinking ever deeper into his bones and the light of the meteorite to cling to. Finally his comm crackled to life.

“Agent Kallus, are you there?” a young, familiar voice asked him. 

“Yes, Inquisitor. I’m here.” Fifteenth Brother. Not who he would have expected. Alexsandr wasn’t going to spurn a rescue from any source at this point, but why did it have to be him? The boy was simply disturbing, for a number of reasons. Kallus still had no proof for what he suspected had been done to Fifteenth Brother growing up in his training, even after doing his best to find what information he could about the Inquisitorius, but he couldn’t get it out of his head. The boy had been so casual about it. If Alexsandr just boldly asked him about it, would he confirm it? Did he see anything odd about having fond childhood memories about a  _ shock collar _ ? 

That wasn’t even counting what had happened chasing the  _ Ghost _ to that star cluster. He had been  _ glowing _ , gold from his eyes and yellow lightning crackling over his body. Even  _ Darth Vader _ of all people had been concerned about him. Alexsandr had sent that report on to Vader as promised, because he didn’t want to die, but the whole experience had shaken him deeply. He did not understand the Force, and he wasn’t sure he wanted to. That pirate Ohnaka had referred to him as a Sith at one point, and Alexsandr had looked the term up later. He found myths and legends and an ancient religion to match that of the Jedi. If that’s what the Inquisitors were, if that’s what they worshiped, why was this the first time he was hearing the name? 

“Coming to your location,” Fifteen Brother said cheerfully. “I’ll be there shortly.”

Alexsandr pushed himself to his feet, letting the splint of his bo-rifle take his weight. It still sent pain shooting up his leg, and he staggered, leaning against the wall. Biting back curses he limped to the entrance of the small cave and stood there looking up at the sky. Geonosis took up most of the view overhead, a massive dusty red sphere. It looked distant and peaceful from here. Garazeb told him the native Geonosians were dead, that the planet had been empty and barren on their scans. Why was that? What would the purpose have been? 

This wasn’t like Lasan. There was no example being made here. 

There were too many questions crowding in his mind, and he didn’t like any of them.

The roar of engines started to filter out of the noise of the wind. An Imperial shuttle soared over him then circled, coming into land close by. The ramp hissed open and Alexsandr made for it as fast as he could, not wanting to be exposed to the elements for a moment longer than necessary. He made it inside with his teeth chattering from the cold and collapsed into the nearest seat. The door closed behind him and the temperature was instantly much warmer. His fingers started to burn with it and he let the meteorite fall into his lap while he rubbed them together vigorously to encourage his returning circulation. 

“How long were you out there?” 

Alexsandr looked up. Fifteenth Brother had appeared next to him - he  _ must  _ have been distracted if he’d missed the young man’s arrival. “I’m not sure,” he replied, still shivering. 

The Inquisitor gave him a once-over, his gaze lingering on the makeshift splint. “You did well to survive the elements then, Agent.” He gestured to the glowing rock in Alexsandr’s lap. “What’s that?”

Kallus found he was reluctant to show him. It was just some piece of stone Zeb had found beneath the ice, it shouldn’t be anything special, and yet… “It’s nothing,” he said. “It gives off some warmth, that’s all.” 

“Huh.” Fifteenth Brother held out his hand - the meteorite floated up into the air. Alexsandr flinched, startled, and hissed as he jarred his leg again. The Inquisitor gave him a sympathetic look before going back to the rock now hovering above his palm, turning gently. “This is resonant in the Force. You must have done something to activate it.”

“How? I’m not Force sensitive.”

The Inquisitor floated the meteorite back to him. “Well, there wasn’t anyone else here. Was there?” 

Metallic golden eyes bored into him. Alexsandr felt as though they could see right through him - he forced himself not to think about Garazeb or anything that had happened on the moon. Orderly thoughts, that was the key. Unless Fifteenth Brother delved deeply into his mind, he shouldn’t see anything. 

Kriff! What was he supposed to have done? Tried to kill Orrelios and doomed himself? Even at that one moment where it would have been possible, it would have been cowardly and dishonourable. He was still loyal to the Empire!

They stared at each other for what felt like minutes, but probably wasn’t as long. Then Fifteenth Brother shrugged and said, “You need medical attention. We should get going.” 

“Thank you, Inquisitor,” Alexsandr said. 

“For what?”

“For coming to get me.” 

The boy shrugged. “Did you think we would leave our own behind?” 

Alexsandr had been beginning to wonder just that. 

\----

**3 BBY - VCX-10 freighter** **_Ghost_ ** **, in hyperspace**

Leia was sitting in the co-pilot's chair staring idly out at the streaks of hyperspace when the door hissed open behind her. She could already feel who it was in the Force so she didn't turn around. "Master Tano."

"Have I done something to make you address me so formally?" Ahsoka replied, coming to sit next to her. 

Leia hesitated. She hated this feeling of growing apart that had been between them ever since she found out that all of her mentors had lied to her. Obi-wan's absence, and all the times Ahsoka was called away on her own Fulcrum missions hadn't helped to repair it, and as long as Leia continued to believe that her brother wasn't some kind of threat to them all while they refused to entertain her point of view, she didn't see how things would ever go back to the way they had been. "No," she said at last. "Sorry Ahsoka."

Ahsoka smoothed out the material of her trousers, a nervous motion from someone who always seemed so self-possessed. "Have you seen Luke again in your dreams?" 

Leia sighed. She understood why Ahsoka had to ask, but... "Yes," she said, although actually it had been weeks now and she wasn’t sure why. "Every now and then. He hasn't asked where I am, if that's what you were wondering, and even if he did I wouldn't tell him."

"He and Third Brother haven’t been far behind us this whole time," Ahsoka said, her voice calm. "We might have shaken them for now but I am concerned that will not continue."

"He has the Force to guide him," Leia pointed out. She didn't  _ think _ he was able to follow their sibling bond, but with a sudden stab of doubt she realised she wasn't actually sure. "Wait. Am I putting the rest of you at risk?"

Ahsoka's eyes widened very slightly and she put a hand out. "Oh, Leia, no. I wasn't suggesting that travelling with you had become too dangerous. We are all being hunted. If you went off on your own... at this point we're stronger together. I only hoped you might have some kind of idea how exactly we were being tracked. It  _ is _ becoming a problem trying to find a new base for Phoenix Squadron."

"I don't know how he's doing it," Leia admitted. 

Ahsoka sat back in her chair, clearly troubled. "Perhaps this is something to do with the Dark Side - some Sith art in tracking. There's so much I don't know."

"Is there any way we can contact Obi-wan again?" Leia asked. It had been months - yes she was  _ angry _ at him but she still missed him all the same. Part of her thought that since he'd dodged Vader so long it would be safe for him to come back, but the other part of her quailed at the idea of having Vader pivot to pursuing them himself because Obi-wan had been seen with them. 

Ahsoka shook her head. "The plan if he needed to get in touch was to go through your father Bail," she said. "Although..."

"What?"

"Kanan told me once that he and Ezra saw a vision of Master Yoda in a temple on Lothal."

"Master Yoda is alive?" Leia had only heard of him in her mentors' stories, but she knew he was head of the Order. 

"I don't know if I would go that far," Ahsoka said, frowning. "It was only a vision - and it isn't unknown for the prompting of the Force to arrive in the form of someone from the past. Even so, it suggests that the temple is a place very powerful in the Force. Perhaps there could be answers there."

"That makes sense to me," Leia said. "And it's not like we have any other ideas."

\----

**3 BBY - Lothal, Lothal System, Lothal Sector, Outer Rim Territories**

Kanan gestured to the spire of the temple before them. “Here it is. Do you want to do the honours Ahsoka?” 

“I’ve seen places like this before,” she replied. Kanan felt her as still and placid in the Force, reaching out gently to sense the temple’s presence. “It needs a Master and Padawan pair.” 

“You and Leia then?” Ezra suggested. 

“No.” Ahsoka put out a hand to stop Leia from stepping forwards. “I haven’t been a Jedi in many years.”

“But you still use the Light Side,” Ezra said. “Won’t that be enough for the temple?”

“It was my choice to leave the Order. The temple will know. You’re from Lothal anyway Ezra. It’s better if you and your Master open it.”

“Think of it as your chance to show off,” Leia added with a smile. 

“Well when you put it like that…” Ezra turned to look at him. Kanan nodded, and they took their places within the rings marked into the rock. He reached out to their training bond, a few easy beats of moving into synchronisation with each other and the Force. Then Kanan guided them both outwards, letting the Light Side flow through them and guide their awareness to where it needed to be. The temple welcomed them with warmth and a calm joy. The vast bulk of the mountain started to twist and rise up - not because they were lifting it but because the Light wanted it to be done. 

Something was different this time though. The rock kept on turning past the point where it had stopped before. For a moment Ezra faltered, taking a mental half-step out of what they were doing to crack an eye open and ask, “Hey, where’s the door going?” The temple still needed them though, and Kanan didn’t let himself lose concentration. After a beat, Ezra joined him again, and before long a new door was rising into view. 

This was it. This was what the temple knew they needed.

"This is new," Ezra said. 

"New problem, new door," Kanan replied. There was a kind of instinctive logic to it. "Chopper, stay here and keep an eye out." The droid gave him a quick salute. Kanan turned back to the temple, taking a deep breath as a sudden wave of nervousness swamped his stomach. There was no reason to feel that way. The temple was a place of sanctuary and guidance - that was why they were here in the first place. 

The entrance was narrow and tall, the carved walls on either side heavily coated with red lichen. As Kanan led the way inside the Force seemed to wrap around him like a thick blanket, cutting the outside world off completely. Heavy silence fell, even their footsteps seeming muffled. He understood with a flash of epiphany that this place had gone undisturbed for a very long time, even when Jedi came here more often. They descended a staircase into a circular room without any other apparent exits, and then the light started to fade behind them. Kanan turned - the doorway was closing with a faint grinding noise. They were sinking, twisting back into the ground. 

At least there wouldn't be any interruptions. 

"So how did you contact Master Yoda?" Ahsoka asked. 

"It was more that he contacted us," Kanan replied.

"I thought I was dreaming when I heard his voice," Ezra said. 

"And I was meditating." It did seem almost dreamlike thinking about it now. 

"Then that's a good place to start," Ahsoka said, nodding to Leia. The four of them all knelt in the centre of the circle facing each other. With the Light Side so calm and still around them, a welcoming sea waiting for them to fall into it, it was easy to let the waves wash in and out, taking a little of Kanan's worry and pain with them each time. He relaxed into the sensation and felt the vast expanse of the Force open up before him in a silent question.  _ What do you need _ ? 

_ I need to know _ , Kanan replied.  _ I need guidance. I need answers. _

Stone ground against stone. Light played across his face. He opened his eyes and... "I see a doorway."

"Where?" Ezra asked, raising his head and looking around. "I don't see anything."

"Neither do I," Ahsoka added. 

Leia was scanning the room with sharp eyes. They came to rest on the segment of wall in front of Kanan, where the door sat. "I can almost see it," she said. "I don't think it's for me."

Ahsoka nodded. "You had better see where it leads."

Kanan rose. It seemed to beckon to him, calling him forwards. He couldn’t see anything inside, only white light and a faint rising mist. He brushed a hand over the stone frame, then stepped inside. 

There was a flash, briefly blinding, and when his vision cleared he found himself standing in the Jedi Temple on Coruscant. His breath caught in his throat, a sudden surge of emotion. It was just a training dojo, one of dozens in the Temple, but he couldn’t look at it without thinking of all the long hours he had spent in a place just like this, running katas and mock duels with Master Bilaba or his fellow padawans. All of them gone now, all of them dead. 

There was someone kneeling on the floor in front of him. A human male in the uniform and mask of a Temple Guard. Kanan blinked - they looked familiar, his own height and build. His head rose slightly, and Kanan heard his own voice say, “I wondered when you would return.”

“A temple guard?” he said, confused. “Why… I was never planning on going down this path. Why show me this?”

The mask simply regarded him. Kanan straightened up. Analysing the Lothal temple’s visions could come later. 

“I’ve come for knowledge,” he said. “I need to know how to defeat Vader and his Inquisitors.” 

The other version of himself stood up, picking a lightsaber hilt from the floor. “Try to fight and you will fail,” the guard said. “You will die and the Rebellion will never succeed.”

“What do you mean?” Kanan demanded, stepping forwards. 

“Many paths lie before you,” the other said. “This is the nature of choice.”

“What other option is there  _ but _ to fight,” Kanan asked. “It can’t be the will of the Force to simply stand aside and let evil triumph.”

“The answer to the question you asked will not lead you to defeat evil. Some destinies are not meant for all.”

“So what  _ is  _ the right choice?” Kanan eyed this other version of himself warily. He could feel the Light Side all around them but this wasn’t at all what he expected to hear.

“Stand aside. Be at peace. Allow the Chosen One to fulfil that which they will.”

“The Chosen One?”

“Or there is the Darkness.” 

A flicker of fear moved venomously in Kanan’s heart. “There’s no way I would ever choose the Dark Side. If fighting is leading me down the wrong path, Falling would be even worse.”

“And what of the boy?” the guard said, gesturing with the hilt of his lightsaber to the door. “Your padawan. The Dark pulls at him. It calls to him. He has not been honest with you. Eventually he will be consumed by it.” With a flick of his wrist, the guard activated his lightsaber. “Stand aside. Let what must happen, happen. The rot will be eliminated at the source.”

“No.” Kanan’s lightsaber was in his hand without thinking, snapping to life bright and blue. “I won’t let that happen.” He didn’t know if Ezra really was hiding something or if this mirror was only saying so as part of some test but it didn’t matter. Ezra put his faith in him as a Master and so he trusted his Padawan. He would protect him, guide him, no matter what. 

The other him darted forwards, bringing his saber down in a powerful arc. Kanan blocked it and strained against a surprising strength. The guard broke away and tried again, attacking in swift, familiar motions. He was fighting himself, only backwards and from the outside. It was far more disorientating than Kanan would have anticipated. He ended up backing away, retreating beneath the assault as the other circled him. Then the guard whirled and took a few fast steps in the direction of the door and Ezra. Kanan jumped after him, fear catching the breath in his throat. There was an edge of desperation to the blows he rained down on this other self. He managed to get back between the guard and the door, and that let him relax enough to get his footing in the Force again. He let it flow through him, guiding each strike, lending power and strength to his muscles. He could beat himself, surely he could. 

He kept on forcing his mirror to give ground, pushing him back across the floor of the dojo. The guard fell into the defensive patterns of Soresu quickly in response and then he was no longer retreating but leading Kanan around, moving like water driven by the wind, never there when the blow fell. Kanan clenched his jaw in frustration. He  _ had  _ to win. He had to prove that he was a worthy Master for Ezra. 

“Is this the limit of our knowledge?” his mirror taunted him. It might fight like him but it didn’t  _ talk _ like him. He wasn’t this formal. 

“I learned enough,” Kanan replied. It had to  _ be  _ enough. The price if it wasn't was Ezra’s soul. For a moment their blades locked, plasma tearing against plasma. 

“I think not,” the guard said, and pushed - with muscles and with the Force. Kanan went staggering backwards towards the wall. 

In a sudden fit of desperation Kanan threw his lightsaber out in an arc of glowing blue, but his other self merely side-stepped it and continued forwards. Kanan looped the Force around the hilt and drew it back to him. He’d never been very good at that move - but that was the problem. All the things he didn’t know. His training cut short, his full potential dangling just out of reach.

As he backed towards the wall, Kanan noticed the other lightsabers hanging from it as something more than decor. In a normal dojo they would be nothing more than training sabers, but in a place like this they might be real weapons - or as real as anything was in a vision. He reached out with his free hand and grabbed for a hilt that felt right to him, that hummed as it fit into his palm. He ignited it with a flourish, dropping into a guard position. The Temple Guard mask was expressionless but he thought he sensed disappointment in the way his mirror shook its head. 

“You will never be strong enough to protect your pupil,” the guard said. “Not as you are now.”

“Then I'll just have to get better,” Kanan replied, and darted forward. A flash of red almost caught him off guard - the saber he had taken was the crimson of the Sith. For a very brief second he faltered, but then he hardened his heart and his determination. There would be time to analyse later. Now there was only the fight. This being, this creature in front of him, it was a threat that needed to be defeated. That would prove he could save Ezra. That he could protect him. 

The Force surged and whipped around him. Rising as a distant wave he felt the strength he’d tapped into once before, on Tarkin’s Star Destroyer. It had let him defeat the Grand Inquisitor, and in the grip of the moment where all that he was and all that he wanted narrowed down to one simple goal he knew that it was the only thing that would let him win now as well. He reached out for it, that warm and fierce thing. It was everything he felt for Ezra, for Hera, for Sabine and Zeb and Ahsoka and Leia and even Rex and Chopper. It filled his frame in a rush of power and adrenaline. The world sharpened around him and his foe seemed to slow before him. 

With a snarl, twin blades whirling death in the air, Kanan fell upon his enemy. The yellow guardian saber rose and fell in elegant blocks, but Kanan beat him back and sent him retreating around the edge of the salle. He could taste victory on the edge of his tongue. 

The red saber slipped past his mirror’s guard. It dashed the mask from his face and sent it clattering to the ground in two pieces. The other him leapt backwards out of reach and brought his lightsaber up in an almost ironic salute. 

“Such is your choice,” he said. His eyes met Kanan’s and Kanan took an unconscious step back in horror. They were sulphurous Sith yellow. 

“What?” he said, the words spilling out of him. “I’m not… This isn’t…”

His own face gave him a sad smile. The room shuddered suddenly, almost knocking Kanan off his feet, and his mirror said, “It is time for you to leave. You will learn no more here.”

“But… I don’t have any more answers now than when I arrived,” Kanan said. “I still don’t know how to defeat the Inquisitors.”

His mirror stepped aside and pointed towards the glowing white light of the door. “You have already made your choice. Go then, since you are so eager to fight.” 

Kanan gave him a suspicious look. This didn’t feel right. He hadn’t learned anything, and this felt… it felt like failure. It didn’t matter though - it was clear that his time was up. He made for the door. 


	34. Chapter 34

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ambigous answers and ultimatums.

**3 BBY - Lothal, Lothal System, Lothal Sector, Outer Rim Territories**

Leia watched Kanan step through the space in the wall and vanish. She could almost see the door he had passed through as a shimmer on the edge of her perception, more visible from the corner of her eye than when she looked at it headlong. The Light Side was strong here. She could feel it being drawn towards them from far and wide, perhaps from all over the planet. Sitting here was like sitting at the bottom of a vast bowl or crater, or like being at the centre of a gravity well. For all that slow and certain power though, it was still calm and peaceful. Each breath of air was warm and fresh as a spring morning. She could almost smell flowers, like the palace gardens back home. 

Alderaan was very far away these days. For a moment she missed it deeply, an aching pain in her heart. It was still there but she couldn’t go back to it, not until the threat of the Empire was dealt with. It would only put her parents at risk. She hadn’t even told Luke who they were yet, although she was sure that had things been different, had they been adopted together, her mother and father would have loved him just as much as they loved her. 

“So, Master Yoda,” Ezra said. “I only heard his voice before, I didn’t see him. Kanan said he was small, green and wrinkly with pointed ears.”

Ahsoka smiled, and Leia did too. The description was similar to the one she’d been given and she still had a little difficulty imagining it. 

“But he didn’t know what he was really like as a person,” Ezra continued. “I know he must have been wise, to be the Master of the whole Order…”

“I’m not sure anyone really knew him that closely,” Ahsoka said. Leia listened with half an ear - she had heard these stories before many times. There was something tugging at the edge of her awareness, something in the Force. It was calling to her, very faint yet insistent. She stretched out towards it, reaching until finally she felt something click into place. 

Ahsoka and Ezra’s voices faded away. There was silence around her. 

Leia opened her eyes and found she was looking out at a sky full of stars. No, more than that - it stretched around and below her as well. She was suspended in space, a blank circle under her knees the only hint of solid ground. She took a deep breath and stood up, looking around. She couldn’t see anyone in the space around her but she didn’t _feel_ alone. There was someone or something else here with her, a presence in the Light. It felt old and grand and deeply sad - an old, well-worn sorrow. 

“Is someone there?” she asked. 

“Looking for someone are you?” The voice was croaky with age. Leia spun around and found herself facing a small creature who certainly did fit the description of Master Yoda. He was sitting on a fallen log, though it faded into mist and darkness a few feet away from him on either side, and he clutched a polished walking stick in his lap. Curious and faintly amused eyes scanned her, seeming to see deeper than her mere surface appearance. 

“We’re all looking for you Master Yoda,” she said, giving him a respectful bow. She knelt back down again - standing in the presence of such a respected Jedi as this felt awkward. 

“Many are searching,” Yoda said. “Find me, few do.” 

“Then thank you for showing yourself to me.” Leia hesitated, the question burning on the tip of her tongue. What was the harm in asking? “Are you really alive somewhere Master? Or is this just the Force?”

“Less valid would it be, if merely the Force it was?”

She shook her head. “We need wisdom and advice. The source doesn’t matter, it's just that… it would give a lot of people comfort to know that you were still out there somewhere.”

“Hmm.” Yoda nodded, claws tapping against his cane. “The solution to problems, my presence is not. Guard the Force I do.”

“What does that mean?” 

“That advice only shall you have. No more. No less.”

Leia wouldn’t push her luck. If this really was Master Yoda, then obviously he had a mission of his own to complete. Pushing him would be just as useless as asking Obi-wan to come back to them, and would just end up causing pain on all sides. “We are being hunted by Darth Vader’s Inquisitors. My friends thought you might know a way to defeat them.” 

“Your friends? Disagree you do?” Sharp green eyes watched her. 

“Do you know who I am, Master Yoda?”

He nodded, and sorrow pulsed into the Force strong enough to echo painfully in Leia’s heart. “Daughter of Anakin Skywalker you are. Leia. Pursue you, your brother does. Wish to harm him you do not. Yet a choice in this you may not have.”

“Surely that can’t be true,” Leia protested. “He isn’t evil! He wants to make the galaxy a better place!”

“Perhaps,” Yoda said, “seeing clearly you are not. Enemies you are. Different goals you have. Wish to rule he does. Even well intentioned, a tyrant he would be. Your father taught you nothing?”

“My father…?”

Yoda narrowed his eyes, pointing his cane at her chest. “What is your father’s name?”

“Anakin Skywalker.” Why was he asking this?

“No. The father who raised you. The father who chose you.”

“Bail,” Leia said, feeling something crack inside her heart - but it was a good pain. A clean pain. “Bail Organa.” Not Anakin. Not Vader. 

Yoda nodded firmly. “Yes. Made by choice and care, family is. Blood, perhaps, but not all is blood. Raised you well, Bail did. Taught care and compassion he did. Built the Rebellion to restore the Republic he did. _Democracy_. Not tyranny.”

“But…” Leia shook her head. This wasn’t the line of argument she had been expecting. “Luke and I, we both agree that what the Empire is doing now is wrong. He wants to change things from the inside, I want to change them from the outside. He just… doesn’t think we’re going to succeed.”

“A big task this is,” Yoda said. “Yet not a hopeless one.”

“Luke’s told me before that the Republic was horribly corrupt. Of course it's the propaganda they shoved down his throat growing up the way he did, but he really does believe that the Empire made things better for some people. I think I can convince him otherwise but…” She trailed off because Yoda had sighed and looked away. “What?”

“Great the Republic once was,” Yoda said. “Corrupt it _had_ become. Saw this the Order did, yet powerless were we to act. So few among the numberless peoples of this galaxy. Clouded was the Force, without guidance were we - or so it seemed. Everywhere, the hand of the Sith, the Dark Side. Hmmm. Distracted we became.”

“But… the Sith were behind the Clone Wars,” Leia said. “Obi-wan told me so - he said the Chancellor had been Darth Sidious all along, that he was controlling Count Dooku to create the war.”

“Yes - and the trap of the war we fell into,” Yoda said. “Join the conflict swiftly we did. Fear. Anger. Hate. Overcome we were, and died too many did. For the Sith we searched and the matter of politics we put aside. To defeat us the Dark Side Sidious did not need. As warriors we became, his victory he had.” 

“Then… are you trying to say the goals of the Rebel Alliance are wrong?”

“Wrong? No.” Yoda shook his head, tapping his cane against the ground to illustrate his point. “Restore the Republic we must - the republic as it should have been! _Better_ it must be than before. Do this your brother will not. Another Empire he will create. You cannot allow this.”

“You want me to kill him?” The very thought of it made Leia sick to the bottom of her stomach. 

“Chase you he does. Kill _you_ he would.”

“No.” That much Leia was sure of. “He doesn’t want to hurt me either.”

“Then kill your friends he will.”

“He wants to capture us.”

“A good thing this would be?” 

“No.” Leia hesitated. It would do no good arguing that he didn’t have a choice, that the Inquisitorius was making him do this. That was true, but it didn’t change reality. This was what she had been avoiding thinking about, this thing she was having a hard time reconciling. “He doesn’t want to hurt any of us, but the only way he could avoid doing that would be if we turned to the Dark Side,” she admitted. “But that’s why I agreed with asking you for help. I can’t help but look for a solution that gets the Inquisitors off our back without anyone having to die for it.”

“Unlike me, hide you cannot,” Yoda said. “Help your friends you must. The hope of the Jedi you are.”

Briefly the unseen floor beneath Leia’s knees shuddered. Faint drifts of dust fell between the two of them. “What is that?” she asked, looking around. 

“Out of time we are,” Yoda said. “Only for so long can our connection be sustained.”

“So what _is_ your answer?” Leia demanded. “Do you want me to go out there and kill Luke the next time we see him?”

“Kill?” Yoda chuckled. “Kill I did not say. How the Jedi choose to win, that is the question. Many paths there still are. _You_ doubt your goals. More certain _you_ must be.”

“I… can see that.”

Yoda nodded. “Choose, Leia.”

\----

Ezra was halfway into talking to Ahsoka about Master Yoda when she suddenly disappeared in the space it took him to blink. He looked around the now empty chamber but there was no sign of her or of Leia. This felt like the temple messing with him, but hopefully in a good way. He stood up, waiting for something to happen. 

After a little while of this - of nothing at all - he yelled, “Hello? Is anyone there?” His words echoed from the stone walls and the entrance stairs but didn’t die away. Instead the echoes piled up on top of each other, an ever growing wall of noise that rebounded and rebounded and got louder and louder until Ezra clapped his hands over his ears and cried out with pain. 

With a rush and a roar, the sound was gone. Ezra blinked away tears of pain. Something mewed into the silence, and wound itself around his feet. 

Ezra almost stumbled with surprise, but managed to catch himself in time. The little white loth-cat that was doing its best to trip him up looked into his face and purred. It was familiar. He had seen it before. 

“Didn’t you lead me to Ryder?” he asked it. “What do you want now?” Was it even real, or a vision thing? He tried reaching out for it with the Force. It _felt_ real, but… that didn’t necessarily mean anything. In the temple things could feel pretty real. 

The loth-cat meowed and jumped away. It ran towards the wall, and Ezra saw that there were now corridors all around him, many different pathways splitting off from one another. “I guess following you makes as much sense as anything,” he said. The cat gave a happy purr and bounded away. 

The tunnel he found himself in was rough, natural-looking stone. When he put his hand to the wall it was slightly damp and cold, but not unpleasant. The loth-cat would hop a few more steps at a time, and then turn back to check that Ezra was still following. Then it whipped around a corner and into another chamber, large and shadowed. Ezra paused in the doorway, squinting at the darkness. There were odd shapes, but nothing he could really make sense of. Somewhere the loth-cat chirped. 

“Hello?” Ezra called again. 

A growl. One of the shapes unfolded, a head coming up, legs stretching out. Ezra took a step back as it moved towards him, but the path he’d come through seemed to have closed up behind him. His back hit solid rock. The thing came closer and then he could see it properly. 

A loth wolf. How? They were meant to be extinct!

This was a Jedi temple. Of course that didn’t matter. 

“Nice… nice loth wolf,” he said. It cocked its head at him. It had white fur all over, and its eyes were yellow-gold. There was a faint scrabbling sound, and the loth-cat appeared on top of its head between its ears with a happy purr. 

The wolf bared its fangs. There were an uncomfortably large number of them. It leaned forwards and Ezra flinched, but the expected bite didn’t come. 

“ _Purpose_ ,” the wolf growled. 

“What? You can _talk_?” 

The wolf frowned - or perhaps Ezra was reading too much into its expression. Its snout shoved into Ezra’s chest, snuffling, scenting him. Ezra had to grab at its fur just to keep from being knocked to the ground. “ _Purpose_ ,” it said again. 

“I… I’m here looking for knowledge,” Ezra managed to get out. “I need answers! We’re being chased by the Sith.”

The loth-wolf pulled back. It looked up and over Ezra’s head, its eyes twitching here and there as thought scanning something only it could see. Another deep growl rumbled in its massive chest. “ _Yes_ ,” it agreed. “ _Hunting. Near.”_

“They… what? They’re _here_?”

The wolf huffed and shook its head, though Ezra sensed frustration. Like there was something he was missing, or not understanding On top of its head the white loth-cat let out an irritable meow at the motion. 

“What should I do?” Ezra asked the two animals. Since he hadn’t been torn to pieces yet and the loth-wolf was _talking_ to him, he wasn’t as afraid of them. Fear of the Inquisitors who were apparently closing in on their trail again was getting more and more pressing in comparison. 

_“Malachor_ ,” the wolf said. 

“Malachor, what’s Malachor? Or who is Malachor?” 

The wolf simply shook its head again. The loth-cat warbled and scrambled to stay on top, but had to leap down to the ground as it lost its balance. It hissed and disappeared into the surrounding darkness. Behind Ezra, stone grumbled. He turned his head to see a door slide open. The loth wolf jerked its snout in that direction. 

“I’m going,” Ezra said with his hands up, though who knew if the gesture meant anything to a loth-wolf. Instead of watching him leave though, the wolf started padding after him. “Uh… what is it?” The wolf didn’t reply, just kept on following him. Ezra saw shadowy movement from over its shoulder, saw more eyes almost glowing back there in amber and green and blue. More wolves. He started walking slightly faster. 

The corridor let him back out in the same room he’d left from, and Kanan and Ahosoka both stumbled into the room from other corridors to his left. Leia was already there - she blinked at them as though coming out of a trance. The temple shuddered again, a more prolonged one this time. 

“Something’s happening,” Ahsoka said, her voice grim. “We have to go.”

“You don’t need to say that twice,” Ezra agreed. He had no desire to be crushed to death if the temple decided to collapse on top of them. “There’s just, uh…” He gestured over his shoulder, looking back into the tunnel as he did so. The passage was full of darkness, the shadows almost alive. The loth-wolves were visible only by their eyes and the low, fierce rumble of growling from multiple throats. 

“What is that?” Leia asked. 

Ezra didn’t get an opportunity to explain. The temple gave one final heave that almost knocked him off his feet, and then a beam of light was filtering in from the entrance hall. It almost felt like the temple wanted them out of here. Like they’d done something to upset it or offend it - if a building could feel emotions. 

“Let’s go,” Kanan said. Unease filtered down their training bond. They made a run for it, dust still falling around them and stone trembling under their feet, and then they were breaking out into the open air with the stars twinkling far above. 

\----

As the _Phantom_ rose into the sky and the presence of the Dark Side faded into the distance behind them, Ahsoka tried to shake off the lingering effects of what she’d seen in the temple. Vader’s voice fading into Anakin’s and back again. The accusations of betrayal and abandonment, all the harder to reject when they came from her Master’s mouth rather than that of a Sith. She wasn’t sure if that had been the temple’s way of testing her, her own doubts made manifest because of the strength of the Force there, or if somehow Vader had reached out and spoken to her. 

It didn’t matter, she told herself. It wasn’t true. Leaving the Jedi Order had been the only choice she could have made at the time. It wasn’t _about_ Anakin. Even if she’d stayed, what would that have changed? Bo-Katan would have reached out to Obi-wan somehow and then it was just as likely she would have still been the one to go to Mandalore, had that same fight with Maul, struggled to survive Order 66. 

Ahsoka still had no idea what had happened to cause Anakin’s fall, but one thing did seem clear. It had been part of Darth Sidious’ plan. With the knowledge of his true identity and the eyes of hindsight, Anakin’s friendship with the Chancellor took on new and sinister undertones. If Ahsoka being there might have saved him, stopped him Falling, Palpatine would have found some way to get her out of the way just like he had with Obi-wan. 

“Is everyone alright?” Leia asked. When they were still in the temple she had looked shaken too by whatever she had seen, but there was no sign of that now. She was back to the determined padawan Ahsoka knew and loved. 

“Fine,” Kanan replied. “Ezra, what were those things following you?”

“They _looked_ like loth wolves,” Ezra said, not sounding very sure. “They’re meant to be extinct though. They’re native to Lothal. I thought maybe the temple just… summoned them, or whatever.”

That did make sense. “That’s entirely possible,” Ahsoka said. “Old temples like this one have a number of defences.”

Ezra nodded. “Did we all have visions?” he asked. “Kanan, I know you went through that doorway, and I know _I_ saw something…”

Ahsoka couldn’t speak. She looked away and simply nodded. It wasn’t something she could tell them. Kanan and Ezra didn’t know yet who Vader had once been, and her vision had been so personal. It wouldn’t help them with their goal. 

“I saw Master Yoda,” Leia said. “He didn’t really answer my question, though he gave me a lot to think about.”

“That sounds like Master Yoda,” Ahsoka said. 

“My vision…” Kanan hesitated. “I think it was a test. The temple - or the Light Side - suggested that we shouldn’t seek to fight the Inquisitors. I’m just not sure what other course of action it was suggesting we take.”

“Master Yoda said something similar,” Leia said. “He said it was important how the Jedi _chose_ to win.”

“A Jedi should never seek out battle,” Ahsoka said. “That doesn’t mean they shouldn’t be ready to fight if one comes to them.”

“So maybe that’s it?” Kanan suggested with an expansive shrug. “We keep running and avoiding the Inquisitors, keep training, and one of these times we’ll defeat them?” He didn’t sound convinced by this idea, and it didn’t feel right to Ahsoka either. 

Ezra put his hand up. “The loth wolves said we should find Malachor. I don’t know what that means, but...am I really the only one who got something useful out of this?” 

“Malachor…” That wasn’t a name to inspire confidence. The prickling of fear ran along her spine. She glanced over at Kanan - she could see that he hadn’t forgotten that part of their history lessons either. “Malachor is a planet, one with a dark history. Why would the Force tell us to go there?”

Ezra shrugged. “That’s all it said. I know it isn’t much, but it’s all we have to go on.”

She couldn’t deny that. The Force was a mysterious thing. For a moment Ahsoka wondered if it was possible that the wolves could have been influenced by the Dark Side, trying to lead them astray, but they were clearly some sort of temple guardians. There had to be something on Malachor that genuinely would help them against the Sith and the Inquisitors. 

“It will take some time to prepare for a mission like that,” she said. “We still have commitments to Phoenix Squadron. After that, we’ll see what is waiting for us on Malachor.” 

\----

Luke floated in the depths of meditation, dragging his way through the snarled webs and connections of the Dark. This was familiar by now, given all the times he’d done it over the last few weeks. He continued to bear Vader’s warning in mind when it came to opening himself up to the Force too completely, but so far he’d been completely unable to get any kind of sense of where the Spectre cell or the Jedi might be now or in the near future. Sometimes he caught flashes, brief glimpses, but nothing that he could use. 

It was becoming harder and harder to focus on his determination and desires when he could feel an animal fear and desperation eating away at him around the edges. There was very little time left to complete his mission, and even though he was trying to trust that Darth Vader would step in and save him from his fate, that said nothing about Cal and _his_ punishment. In addition, failure to find the Jedi meant running out of time to prepare to face Darth Sidious. It meant maybe both Luke _and_ his father dying at the Emperor’s hands. 

He couldn’t allow that. He’d come too far and done too much. 

It had been some time since he last dreamed, of Leia or of anything else. Spending so much of the day immersed in the Force seemed to be affecting his sleep. He hadn’t had to face the question of how far exactly he would go to find her, if he saw her again in that dream-place. He hadn't tried to reach out for her during his waking hours either, too afraid of how it would go.

Trying to force answers out of her probably wouldn’t even work. She was too stubborn and too clever to be tricked, and what power did he have over her there? None at all. He could still get a sense of her through their bond even without that, but it wasn’t as much use for tracking her as one might think. He had a faint sense of direction but not distance, and there were any hundred places someone could be along any given vector, not to mention that the rebels were still moving around a lot.

Across lightyears, distance erased by the Force, Luke felt Vader reach for him. Their training bond was just as strong as the one between Luke and Leia, perhaps more so because it had been made consciously rather by instinct. Luke hadn’t stepped into any of Vader’s dreams yet, although thinking back there had been that one time on Mustafar, before he’d known who Vader was. Had there been some kind of family link even then, or was it just something about shields coming down during sleep? Luke had seen one of Cal’s dreams once, and he still didn’t know why. 

_You are tired, young one_ , Vader sent to him. _You need rest._

_I can’t, not yet_ , Luke replied. 

He felt the faint pulse of Vader’s anger, not directed at him but at the situation he found himself in. _Then let me lend you my strength,_ he said. _Let us meditate together as Master and Apprentice should_. 

Luke wasn’t about to say no to that. Their bond was a warm link in the back of his mind erasing the millions of miles that lay between them, allowing them to fall into step with each other in the Force. After all, for all it had its temple and nexuses, places and planets where it had more power, the Dark Side was all one thing. It connected and bound the galaxy together, the same as the Light. 

Luke heard Vader’s sonorous, even breathing in his ears, felt his own chest matching that rise and fall. He focused on what he wanted to find and sensed his father doing the same, the sharp attention of their minds coming together as one. The Dark was vast and held many secrets. Nothing was impossible if only he - they - had the determination to force the answers out of it. 

_Leia,_ Luke thought. Demanded. _Ezra. Kanan. Ahsoka. The Jedi. Where are they? Where will they be?_ **_Show me_** **.**

With each word pulsed out into the Force, Vader’s voice echoed him. The Dark shivered at their touch. Shadows curled around them. They were delving into a deep place, tethered back to themselves by the thin chains of their own will. Again Luke saw those flickers and flashes of possibility, fragments that didn’t hold anything useful. He brushed them aside, seeing his own mental hand doubled, the ghost of Vader’s glove superimposed over his own. 

_No. Where?_ **_Where?_ **

There. Something caught Luke’s attention like movement seen in the corner of his eyes. He turned his attention that way and saw… 

A planet with two moons. A barren rocky surface, then a roar in the Dark Side as something deeply buried awoke. Jedi huddled together, wary in the twilight below a sky studded with strange stars. A name coming as a whisper in the back of his head. 

_Malachor,_ the Dark whispered. _What you seek is on Malachor._

The name meant nothing to Luke, but Vader reacted with instinctive surprise. _What is it?_ Luke asked. 

_That is a Sith planet,_ Vader replied. _Why would the Jedi go there?_

**\----**

**3 BBY - VCX-10 freighter** **_Ghost_ ** **, somewhere in the Lothal system, Outer Rim Territories**

There were so many things pulling at his attention that Kanan didn’t have a lot of time to dedicate to working out the meaning of what he had seen in the temple. It kept on bothering him though, so eventually he found some space at the end of another long day surveying potential options for a new base. Hera was already fast asleep in bed when he came into their shared cabin, knelt, and began the calm, measured breathing of meditation. 

He needed a clear mind to think about this. The Light Side lapped around him like waves against a river-rock, smoothing the jagged edges of his emotions, bringing peace. He relaxed into it, feeling muscles going slack, feeling himself detach a little from the awareness of his body until all there was was the Force and his own thoughts. 

The temple. The guardian wearing his face. The duel, the red lightsaber he had picked up, the words of warning or threat, the Sith-yellow eyes. 

The temple had challenged him and claimed he wasn’t good enough to protect his own padawan. Kanan didn’t, _couldn’t_ , believe that was some kind of objective truth. It was too close to his own doubts and worries. That thing had been his mirror, so wouldn’t it mirror the things he was afraid of? Wasn’t the answer that he should overcome his fear of failure? The last time Kanan had felt like that he led Ezra into a trap looking for Master Unduli. He had answered his worries about his own inadequacy by trying to put Ezra aside, not noticing that all he was doing was making his padawan feel unwanted and abandoned. Fighting for him, trying to protect him, showing him he was valuable and loved - wasn’t that the opposite? Shouldn’t that have been what the temple was looking for?

Not for the first time Kanan felt a shudder of anger at the Empire which had killed his own Master, killed his people, cut his training short, and tried to wipe out his culture. There was so much more that yes, he _ought_ to know, but all he could do was try his best with what he did have. If that wasn’t enough for the temple, for the Light...?

Then it wasn’t enough. He breathed the anger away. The world wasn’t just. Sometimes your best wouldn’t get you there, but that wasn’t anyone's fault. The important thing was giving it your all. 

The guard told him that fighting was playing into their enemies’ hands. Kanan couldn’t see how, unless he had misunderstood what was meant by ‘fighting’. The question he asked had been about defeating Vader and his Inquisitors - perhaps the message was that trying to seek them out right now would indeed be foolhardy. Unless they found something that would help them on Malachor, perhaps this running and fighting only when they had to really was the best option for now. If so, then they really couldn’t stay with the rest of the Rebellion. They would have to follow Obi-wan’s example and leave to protect others. 

Kriff it, he couldn’t! He couldn’t leave Hera behind, or any of the others for that matter. 

The Force didn’t care if things would be hard for him. Was he just refusing to face reality because he didn’t want to believe it? 

What about that third option - or rather the warning the temple gave about it. It claimed Ezra would turn to the Dark Side - but that had just been about getting a reaction from him hadn’t it? Worse, it suggested Kanan himself was at risk of Falling. 

He didn’t feel as though he was. He was no more angry or bitter or hateful than at any other point in his life since Order 66, and it hadn’t happened in fifteen years yet. He felt no temptation to draw on the Dark Side, those black storm clouds on the horizon that he’d been trained to be so wary of. 

Luke, the Sithling, thought there were other ways to call on the Dark Side. He’d shown it to Ezra, and Ezra was certain it didn’t feel like the Dark as either of them knew it. Kanan had wondered before if it was possible. If Luke was telling the truth. He’d worried the odd sense of the Force he had drawn on above Mustafar - and now again in the Lothal temple - might be the Dark in some disguise, some new form. It was still hard to believe. Nothing about it had been malicious. It was… it was love, wasn’t it? His love for Ezra, for Hera, for all of their family bonded together through adversity. Love made him want to protect them. 

It wasn’t attachment. It was compassion. Wasn’t it? 

Kanan didn’t know, and that, if anything, was what made him truly afraid.

\----

**3 BBY - ISD-** **_Devastator,_ ** **above Mustafar, Atravis Sector, Outer Rim Territories**

“Your search for Kenobi fails to progress,” Darth Sidious said with a sneer. Vader bowed his head and let his anger burn as his Master would expect. He could admit he had been distracted from that particular quest. It was not like him, but there were no new leads for him to follow and his apprentice needed him more. 

He had done his best to be circumspect in his time in the Lothal system, but his ability to do so was always limited by who he was. His Master must know he’d gone there, but perhaps not everything he had done. This was a delicate balance. Vader would not admit he was training the boy. His Master would not ask. The knowledge was there between them as a silent, unspoken weight. Treachery was a natural part of the life-cycle of the Sith, the Master's responsibility was to not make that _easy._

“And what,” Sidious asked, venom in each word, “of the hunt for the Lothal rebel scum? What of the Jedi?”

“Fifteenth Brother senses that they grow desperate, my Master,” he said. “They seek a means to destroy us.”

Sidious sneered. “Pitiful.” It was difficult to say which party he was referring to. Likely both. 

“The Force suggests the Jedi will travel to Malachor,” Vader said, repeating what Fifteenth Brother had already divined. The Dark Side revealed much to him, as it did to Darth Sidious. If it had not revealed the boy’s own death to him, then there was still cause to hope. 

“Malachor.” The Dark trembled as the word dripped like poison from his Master’s tongue. It was portentous, a site of battles old and perhaps, battles yet to come. “Yes. I have sensed its importance. You will send Third and Fifteenth Brother to Malachor to await the arrival of these Jedi wretches - but, my Apprentice, you will follow on close behind.”

“Master?”

“If the Inquisitors fail again, they will have outlived their usefulness. You will strike them down and finish the job yourself.”

Vader’s heart seemed to skip a beat in his chest, although naturally that was impossible given the pacemaker keeping that organ in time. He clamped down hard on the emotion and did not let a whisper of it pass his shields. “As you wish, my Master,” he said, bowing his head. So. This would be the final chance for the boy to prove himself, or die. 

Vader would not let the latter happen. 

His Master would say the boy should mean nothing to him. He was only an Inquisitor. Replaceable. In time there would be other tools in Vader’s hand to use against Darth Sidious. All of those things were true; none of them mattered. Fifteenth Brother was _his_ apprentice, and Vader would _not_ lose another one. If ‘apprentice’ meant something more to him now he could not afford to put that into words.

Not yet.


	35. Chapter 35

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An unexpected ally and the secrets of the Sith.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, thank you all so much for your wonderful comments! :D

**3 BBY - Malachor, Malachor system, Chorlian Sector, Outer Rim Territories**

Maul felt the disturbance in the Force long before there was any visible sign of intruders on the planet. His enforced exile on this desolate rock would soon be over, one way or another. He rose from the meditation that was the only occupation he had to pass the time, unable to sit there any longer as a surge of eagerness flooded his body. He picked his way through the silent stone forms of ancient Jedi and Sith towards the hulk that was all that was left of his own ship. It wouldn’t do to allow it to be seen by these newcomers upon their arrival. It might make them think twice about landing, and then his chance to kill or suborne them and thus escape would be lost. 

The water recycler and food stocks on board the small shuttle had sustained him over the long months since arriving on Malachor. Although Maul had found in the past that the Dark Side would also suffice to maintain life, the price of doing so was not one he wished to pay for a second time. Still, the Force told him he would not be alone much longer. He could survive without these _luxuries_ for a few days, perhaps as much as a week, without needing to draw on the Dark’s strength. 

Maul removed as many supplies as possible, then moved to the back of the ship, tearing panels loose with a casual use of the Force. The ship’s engines were no longer capable of flight, but they would now have one, final use. It was simple enough to lock them into a loop that would burn them out explosively, then retire to a safe distance. 

The show that resulted was quite pretty. Maul felt the shockwave thrum through his chest with a thrill of satisfaction. The wreckage left behind burned briefly, throwing wild and flickering lights around the stone pillars and twisted petrified corpses, causing them to seem to dance before it died down leaving only scattered metal and parts that blended in well with the tangle of rock that littered every part of this tomb. 

Maul threw a glance over his shoulder at the temple in the distance. It sat silent and quiet as ever, a heavy weight in the Force, a pressurised node of power that at present stayed locked away behind its eternal protections. There was no reason to think something so simple and prosaic as an explosion would do anything to change that and yet Maul still hoped. 

How many times now had he attempted to break into the temple? Dozens, surely. It was the reason he’d come to Malachor in the first place, thinking that his old Sith teachings would be good for _this_ at least. His fury at realising it required both a Master _and_ an Apprentice had resulted in him laying waste to a great swathe of architecture close to the base of the pyramid, but all of the destruction had done no more than tire him out. 

Perhaps that would change soon. The Force had not given him a sense of the nature of these interlopers, merely that they would soon be here. It might be too much to hope they were Force-sensitive - but who else would come to Malachor? Who, aside from the Jedi and SIth, even knew of its existence?

Maul found a central but hidden place in the mausoleum to wait with his remaining supplies. Further meditation might tell him more. 

\----

“This… isn’t what I expected,” Luke said, looking over the almost featureless plain of flat stone inside the caldera. From above the whole place could have been taken for a normal volcano plugged with its own cooled lava - all except for the eight massive obsidian pillars sticking up from the surface in a wide circle. Things were not much clearer up close.

“You were the one who had a vision of this place,” Cal said. “Vader said the Emperor already knows about a Sith temple here." 

“Yeah, but my vision didn’t look anything like _this_ ,” Luke replied. He could feel that there was a Dark Side site somewhere close by, as noticable in the Force as a mountain seen from its own base, but there was nothing here to suggest where it was - except those pillars. There was something about them. Something that was calling to him. He headed in their direction, because what else was there to do?

He could ask Vader, he supposed. His father was lurking somewhere in the system, ordered by the Emperor to watch them and await either their success or their failure. Still this was _his_ mission, and unless there was no other choice he wanted to prove to Vader that he _could_ do this himself. 

“Careful,” Cal said. “This place… it feels old and not exactly welcoming.”

“Hmm.” Old, yes, but Luke wouldn’t call it unwelcoming. It was more… he had a sense of anticipation, or watchful waiting. An impartial observer that wanted them to prove themselves before it would give anything back. He was close enough to the nearest pillar now to see that it wasn’t just featureless black rock. There were carvings on its surface in horizontal lines of hieroglyphics. “Can you read these?” he asked Cal. 

“No, but I’ve seen something like them before,” Cal said. “There’s more than one tongue here, but some of these are Ancient Sith I think.”

“The Sith have their own language?”

“Darth Vader never told you?” Cal seemed surprised by that.

Luke could only shrug. “He didn’t mention anything.” 

“If we need to know what this means to get in, we’re going to have a hard time of it,” Cal said, staring at the carvings. “On the other hand, so will the Jedi. We could park the shuttle somewhere at the edge of the caldera and wait for them to arrive, then sweep in.” 

_Touch them_. Luke blinked. It had been a while - not counting while in the depths of meditation - since he’d heard the urgings of the Dark Side as more than pure emotion and desire yet that was what the whisper had been, he was sure of it. He reached forwards and put his palm flat against the pillar. Something Dark reached back, flowing up from a source deep below them. The carvings on the pillar started to glow deep red. In a rough circle whose circumference touched the pillar, stone crumbled away to reveal a deep darkness beyond. 

Cal edged closer to it and looked over the edge. Beedee reached himself up over his shoulder to shine a light down into the depths. Cal knelt and reached for the rim of the hole, measuring something with his hand. 

“What is it?” Luke asked. He hadn’t taken his own hand away from the pillar yet and he could feel something thrumming against his skin like a vast, slow heartbeat. 

“This whole thing… it's just a skin over some kind of cavern,” Cal replied. “The stone here is about a foot thick. We’re lucky it held the weight of the shuttle.”

“Then the temple is down there,” Luke said. He gave the pillar a fond look and an affectionate pat, trying to communicate his thanks. “We need to go down.” 

“The ship won’t fit down that hole,” Cal pointed out. “I don’t want to leave it up here to tip off the Jedi.”

Luke reached out for the temple, a wordless pulse seeking permission. He sensed no anger in response to the suggestion. “I think it will be alright if we make a hole for it,” he said. “We should just do it well away from the pillars themselves.” He took his hand away and the red glow in the hieroglyphics faded.

“Right.” Cal gave the pillar a suspicious look, then headed back to the shuttle. “You’re getting pretty good at piloting Luke. You want to take us down?” 

Luke grinned. “Sure.”

\----

The Force and the temple were both waking up. Maul felt it shifting in the shadows of the Dark like some great beast. The pulse, the source, the target was above him, walking upon the stone ceiling and pulling the Dark Side to it like a magnet. The other Dark Side presence with it was negligible in comparison. Neither felt familiar, but Maul knew what this was all the same. 

“Sith,” he snarled, baring his teeth as fury rose powerful and poisonous within. 

Blaster cannons fired far above. Stone cracked and then shattered, falling with thuds and explosions of shrapnel to the streets of the city turned tomb below. The beam of light let through was almost blinding after so long spent with eyes adapted to the darkness, but Maul would not look away. The shadow of a ship descended, blocking out the sun once again. It was an Imperial shuttle. 

Had his _former Master_ found yet another replacement Apprentice? Skywalker had certainly not turned out as Sidious would have wished - that much was obvious from the life-support suit he wore. Oh, Vader was a powerful weapon to be sure, but he was not the glory in Darkness that the Chosen One of the Force could have been and Sidious had never hestitated to discard broken tools before. 

Maul watched from a distance as the shuttle banked over the city until it found a space wide enough for it to come to rest. He wrapped the Dark Side around him as a cloak as Sidious had once taught him, the perfect camouflage against Jedi or indeed any who had not been shown this technique. Whether that included this newest Apprentice remained to be seen. 

The shuttle’s ramp hissed open. Two figures emerged from within, both clad in black Imperial uniforms; Inquisitors, the tools and assassins of Sidious. The taller and older human male Maul dismissed immediately - his gaze was fixed intently on the other, also human but not so long out of his childhood. Even at this distance, he could see the tell-tale flash of yellow from his eyes. 

This was the Sith. This was the new Apprentice. Fresh young meat for Sidious’ manipulations and plots. 

Rage and hate boiled inside him. He _would_ have his revenge, whatever he needed to do to achieve it. 

The two humans were speaking to each other, gesturing out at the empty city and the pyramid of the temple at its centre. Maul crept closer, freeing his saber from the staff that disguised it as a mere walking support. There was no sign that the Sithling was aware of his presence. Maul opened up his awareness, a passive sensing rather than an active search. The boy _was_ powerful. He kept that power locked away from the upper levels of the Dark, but Maul had been taught to see deeper. Below the surface the true Sith lurked, like a Dathomiri swamp-beast allowing only its eyes and nostrils above the water, concealing claws and fangs and coiled muscle waiting to strike. 

Power was all very well, but to be truly formidable it required training and shaping. How did the boy fare in those respects? 

He was close enough now. Maul straighted, pulled the strength of pure hate into his bones, ignited his saber and leapt.

\----

The temple was a lodestone in Luke’s awareness. He could only spare half of his attention to look around at this strange place they now found themselves in, his gaze continually drawn back to the pyramid with its cap of crimson crystal or glass. It was singing in a low hum not that different from the song of his kyber. It wanted him to come to it, to test his strength against it. 

Perhaps that was why he didn’t notice that something was amiss straight away. 

The only warning Luke got was the hiss of a lightsaber igniting. It was enough for him to dodge backwards - a buzzing crimson blade came down where he had been standing and carved into the flagstones below with a spray of molten rock. His alarm flared into the Force and he felt Vader’s answering spike of concern. 

_Young one, what is it?_

Luke had no time to answer. He could barely find the space to call the Dark to him, to even see who was attacking him aside from someone wielding a Darksider’s saber. The saberstaff whirled arcs of red death - Luke ducked low, adrenaline shooting through him and sharpening his senses, anger surging and the Dark Side snapping into focus. The world slowed. He ripped his own weapon from its place mag-locked on his back and let the thrill of battle scream into the kyber within. As the next blade came towards him Luke blocked and let the spitting energies of the plasma lock into each other and hold briefly in place. 

A red and black zabrak snarled at him, arms flexing as he brought his strength to bear, breaking them apart and dashing Luke’s blade aside. Their eyes met, Sith gold to Sith gold. 

“Wait!” Luke said, leaping backwards to open the space between them and holding out his hand. “Who are you? Aren’t we on the same side?” His father was still pulsing concern across their bond but he couldn’t spare the attention to answer. 

The Dark Side was lashing around them both, spurred into a frenzy by the presence to two people so strongly enmeshed with it. There was something about this man that felt familiar. 

“Do you truly not know, _boy?_ ” the zabrak demanded. His voice was surprisingly quiet, more of a menacing whisper. He flicked his saberstaff in a flourish of movement, setting it more firmly in his grasp. His eyes burned with rims of crimson around each rich yellow iris and the taste of his hate was heavy and thick on the air. “Did your _Master_ not speak of me?” 

Luke shook his head, risking a glance at Cal. His friend had his lightsaber out and ignited, crouching in readiness to attack or defend whichever way this confrontation turned. “I’ve seen you before,” Cal said, calling out to the strange Sith. 

“I don’t recall meeting you,” the zabrak replied, paying Cal some attention for the first time. It was hard to tell his age, how long he might have been here. He was dressed simply, and he had the dangerous, coiled strength of a predator. “If our paths had crossed before, you would surely be dead.”

He was not the only predator here, Luke thought to himself. They all were. 

“I saw you in a memory,” Cal replied. He hadn’t taken his eyes off the zabrak. “You were on Mandalore. You had the Darksaber.”

Luke straightened up as he realised what Cal was talking about, letting his blade dip slightly in his distraction. The edge of his panic settled, and that seemed enough to calm Vader down as well. “You’re the Sith hiding on Dathomir,” Luke said. 

The zabrak’s eyes snapped back to him. Rage punched into the Force like a physical blow hard enough to snatch the air briefly from Luke’s lungs. In the span of a heartbeat the Sith was moving again, crossing the space between them in a single bound and bringing his saberstaff around in a whirlwind of strikes. Luke snapped his own blade back up - he could only backpedal in retreat against the sheer speed and fury of the assault and as red flashed towards his face he saw his own death coming towards him. 

Then Cal was there. His blade wound into the gap between them fast as thought, deflecting the killing blow. The zabrak snarled and spun, his leg snapping out in a powerful kick that hit Luke right below the ribs and sent him flying. He hit a stone pillar, and then the ground. Pain blossomed through spasming muscles. 

“I shall deal with you first then,” the Sith said to Cal, a whisper of menace and a promise. "Since you offer your death up to me so eagerly."

Luke needed to get up. Cal was in danger. Vader was screaming worry at him, and was probably heading this way right now, just not quickly enough to have any hope of affecting this confrontation. Luke’s body was less keen on the idea of moving. The Force was roaring, a wild wind, a screaming death. It ripped around the other Sith, buffeted Cal and threatened to tear his grasp on the Dark away. This was an opponent on the level of Vader. Even working together Luke didn’t see how they could win. 

That didn’t matter. _He_ was a Sith too. There was always a choice. There was always power, if you had the will and determination to take it. Cal was _his,_ and he would let no harm come to him while he was still around to stop it. 

Luke rose to his feet and felt the Dark rise with him like a krayt rising from the sands. He could almost _feel_ the Force tearing itself in two around them both, unable to favour one Sith over another, pulled inexorably to each of them as though they were two immensely powerful magnets. The zabrak might have been focusing on Cal but _this_ was impossible to ignore. 

Luke didn’t give him a chance to react. He focused his rage and his determination and channelled them _out_. Lightning burst from his outstretched hand towards the other Sith, bridging the gap in a single crack of sound and fury. The zabrak didn’t have time to turn to block it - couldn’t, with Cal there to press the attack from the other side if he did. The bolt hit him in the centre of his back and lit him up from within. His spine curved as his muscles spasmed, and smoke rose in drifts from his skin and escaped the fabric covering his legs. 

His pain, agony, _desperation_ , rose into the Force in more whirling, devouring shadows. The backlash of those echoed emotions almost cost Luke his concentration - the solid weight of his will flickered and the lightning with it. He was quick to grasp it again, to keep it crackling into the man’s writhing body as he stalked closer, keeping him down. Cal kicked his dropped saberstaff away - it disappeared somewhere into drifts of stone rubble. 

“ _Stop_ ,” Luke snarled through gritted teeth. “Stop _fighting_ us.”

The Sith began to laugh, a horrible cracked and broken sound. “Is this really how I am to die?” he said, barely able to force the words out. “At the hands of an ignorant _child_?”

Luke finally reached the limits of his strength. The lightning faded, though small remnants crawled for several seconds more over the man’s skin. The zabrak pushed himself up on his hands, gasping for breath. His legs didn’t seem to be moving. Luke might have hit him in the spine but he didn’t think it would have this sort of effect. He didn't actually know - he hadn't used this power on very many people. 

“Why attack us in the first place?” Luke asked. He was breathing heavily, adrenaline still pumping, the dark sandstorm clouds whirling around him. “We’re on the same side, aren’t we?”

The question drew a look of pure disgust. “Only a fool would assume such a thing. _You_ are both my enemy.”

“We have done _nothing_ to you,” Luke said. That might not be entirely true depending on how he felt about them invading his home on Dathomir, but he hadn’t known about that when he ambushed them. His surprise when Luke mentioned that planet proved it.

Another burst of painful laughter. “You serve Darth Sidious.”

Luke flexed his hand; the energy he had fed out through the bones and muscle left him feeling both numb and sore at the same time. He wanted to deny it, but at least at the moment it would be a lie. They were here because of a mission given to them by Sidious himself. "Yes, but... Why is he your enemy? Just because of normal Sith rivalry, or do you have a more personal reason?”

The zabrak snarled at him, baring his teeth. “Oh, the depths of my hate for your _Master_ cannot be so easily put into words.” His gaze flicked from Luke to the surrounding scenery - looking for his lightsaber, Luke suspected. Even paralysed from the waist down as he appeared to be, he wasn’t giving up. 

“We weren’t sent here for you,” Luke said. He could see how this must have looked to the Sith. Why _wouldn’t_ he think Darth Sidious had sent them both here as assassins? 

“The holocron then.” There was a glint of sadistic humour in the smile spreading across his face. “The temple will not accept you without your Master, Apprentice.”

Luke blinked. “No, I’m not… I’m not Darth Sidious’ apprentice. I’m just an Inquisitor.”

“Your eyes betray that pitiful lie, child.”

“Other Inquisitors have had golden eyes,” Luke said. This was getting old. “The Grand Inquisitor, for one.”

“Your presence in the Force then. Why bother spinning this out? What do you hope to gain by this game? End my life and be done with it.” 

His presence? Luke wasn’t even going to bother asking. “I don’t even know your name, much less have any reason to kill you.” 

“Your Master sent you here so very unprepared, did he not? One might even think he intended you to die here.” 

Luke hadn’t had a chance to think about that possibility, but it sounded horribly likely. He exchanged a worried glance with Cal, who gave a very small nod. He thought so too. “We’re here hunting Jedi,” he said. 

“They’re all very dead, I’m afraid,” the zabrak said with a chuckle, gesturing to the city spread out around them. “Slaughtered a very long time ago.”

“More are coming,” Luke told him. “We could simply leave you here for them.” 

“So afraid of dirtying your hands.” The Sith shook his head, with a laugh that was more like a cough. “Sidious has left his mark on you indeed, if you prefer using such unwitting tools.”

“ _Darth Vader_ is Sidious’ apprentice,” Luke said, annoyed. 

That seemed to finally get through to him. The zabrak’s yellow eyes narrowed thoughtfully. “What does that make you?” he asked, soft and silky. 

“More a tool in Vader’s hand than in his Master’s.” 

The Sith gave him a long look. “Interesting.”

“One might say we share an enemy,” Luke added. He could sense the zabrak's attitude towards them beginning to change, and it was a relief. He hadn't wanted this fight in the first place, and he'd wanted to kill another Dark Side user even less. An alliance was what they’d been hoping for when they first learned of the existence of another Sith Lord - the circumstances were just very different than he'd expected. 

“If you wished to garner an ally, I’m afraid I will be of little use to you as I am now,” the man said, gesturing down his body. Luke winced.

“The effects of the lightning won’t wear off with time?” he asked. 

“My legs,” the zabrak said. “They are prosthetics.”

“The circuits are burned out.” Luke understood. “Perhaps we can fix them. There might be something in the shuttle we can cannibalise.”

“Luke,” Cal said quietly. “Are you sure this is a good idea?”

“Isn’t the enemy of my enemy a friend?” Luke said. To Vader he sent, _It’s fine. Don’t worry. You don’t need to come._

A smile spread across the Sith’s face. “Yes,” he said. “A friend. Why not? You may call me Maul.”

**\----**

**3 BBY - Chopper Base, Atollon, Atollon system, Lothal Sector, Outer Rim Territories**

The krykna skittered back and forth outside of the invisible line made by the signal emitters. Its mind was there in the Force. Ezra could feel it. He centred himself and reached out for it once again. The light press of his presence against its own was enough to get its attention, and it moved in small, staggering motions closer to him, little by little. He was trying his best to be open to it, to let it in, make the connection, figure out what drove it, what it wanted… but then his hold on it slid away like trying to hold wet glass. The krykna screeched, mandibles and sharp beak opening wide, and leapt towards him ready to attack - before it got too close to the unpleasant sensation of the emitter field and flinched away. 

It whirled and scampered off into the rocky wastes. Ezra watched it go, feeling despondent. He had always been able to connect to creatures before but these things… something about the way they thought was just too alien. He couldn’t understand them, and so he couldn’t connect to them. 

He flopped back in the sand. There was a strange bird circling overhead. He hadn’t seen anything like it here on Atollon before - or anywhere else for that matter. Calling the Force to him once again, he was about to reach up towards it and try to connect with it when he sensed a familiar presence approaching. 

“Ahsoka?” he said, as she leaned over him smiling. 

“I see the base is coming along nicely,” she said, as Ezra scrambled to his feet. “I came to find you because we’re ready to go.”

“To go… to go to Malachor?” 

She nodded. Ezra perhaps ought to feel more worried about the idea of going to a planet that made Ahsoka and Kanan react like they had, but honestly he was just eager to get going. The possibility of finding a way out of this situation with the Inquisitors was just too good to feel apprehensive. Even then, both the older Jedi said they were worried because of the planet's history, not because of anything that was going on there now. Yeah, it was a Sith place, and so it wasn't going to be _good_ , but the loth wolf in the temple wouldn't have told them to go there if it was _that_ dangerous. 

Ahsoka led him back to the main base, where the _Phantom_ was waiting for them. Kanan and Leia were already on board. 

"Is this all of us?" Ezra asked, heading in to take his usual seat. 

"There's no need for anyone else to join us," Ahsoka said. "This is Jedi business."

"Even if they can't use the Force, having back-up might not be a terrible idea," Leia said. 

"After Garel, Phoenix Squadron is stretched thin," Kanan replied. He didn't seem happy about that either. "There's still a lot to do here to finish off the base - Hera, Zeb and the others can do more good by staying behind."

"That sounds like something Hera would say," Ezra noted. 

"Doesn't mean she's wrong," Kanan said, finishing pre-flight checks and getting them up into the air. "She doesn't like us going to Malachor any more than I do, but we have to be practical. We won't be gone for long."

"I just hope we find an answer at last," Ezra said. Malachor wasn't on a hyperspace lane, so it was going to take a while just to get there.

"What's so bad about Malachor anyway," Leia asked. "You weren't clear about that before."

Kanan and Ahsoka exchanged looks. "It's nothing certain," Kanan said. "Jedi were forbidden to go there, but all we knew about why was based on old legends we heard in the creche."

"There's always some truth in legends though," Ahsoka added. 

The blue of hyperspace smeared around them as they finally broke loose from Atollon's gravity well. Kanan let go of the controls and turned in his seat. "We've got some time to kill," he said. "Meditation?"

Ezra shrugged. It _was_ a good way to pass the time. 

**\----**

**3 BBY - Malachor, Malachor system, Chorlian Sector, Outer Rim Territories**

Maul watched the Sithling work, bent over his now bare legs, and considered this prospective alliance. The boy was powerful, that could not be denied. Sidious had never taught _Maul_ the technique of Force Lightning, and he had been older than this stripling youth when he was sent to Naboo - if only by a few years. Perhaps that was the influence of those xenophobic traits his Master displayed from time to time. It had taken some years for Maul to notice Sidious' human favouritism, but the society he had formed in establishing the Empire was proof if he had needed any more. This apprentice was human, as was Skywalker. Perhaps it should come as no surprise that Darth Sidious favoured them over Maul. Maul assumed the Force Lightning technique had been passed down to the Sithling from Vader, though how Vader was able to channel it given he had at least one prosthetic that Maul knew about was more of a mystery. 

This was idle speculation. Opportunity lay before him, surely a gift from the Force itself. How else would an instrument of revenge have fallen so neatly into his lap? And this boy would be such an instrument, that was clear. 

“Is that any better?” the boy asked, adjusting wiring. Maul flexed, and found his foot obeyed his will with a small twitch. 

“Marginally,” he replied. He drew the Dark in and out of his body, washing away the flickering remnants of lightning from his nerves. He was... practised at doing so. His efforts to harden his prosthetics against such energy had been less successful.

“I don’t have much experience with prosthetics,” the boy said. “Aside from this one.” He made a fist of his gloved right hand, then straightened it out again. Curious. It _was_ possible then to unleash lightning using only one hand. Sidious had preferred to use both. “I used to help fix small things around the farm where I grew up, vaporators mostly.”

“Hmmm.” Maul tried to gather his legs under him - slowly they responded. He got to his feet, staggering a little. He could have used his cane at this moment, but he was unsure now where it was amongst the shattered stone of the mausoleum. “What is your name, boy?”

He was expecting a number from what little he knew of his foe’s hunting hounds, or perhaps a ‘Darth’ title, but the boy said instead, “Luke.” 

“A pleasure, Luke.” It was not a lie, although being electrocuted was far from enjoyable. The boy had not been lying to him though. He truly believed Sidious was his enemy as well. "And that of your companion?"

"Third Brother," the man said, before Luke could answer. His eyes were wary and cold, as was only wise. Trust was a fragile, ephemeral thing - but Maul was not relying on trust but on mutual self-interest. Shared aims and goals made for better allies than any mere words professing loyalty. "How long have you been here, _Maul_?"

The Inquisitor thought he'd given them a false name. Maul allowed himself an inner smile. Honesty carefully used could be a better weapon than any lie. His _Master_ had taught him that. "It has been... some time," he replied. "The days blur into one. The prospect of escape seemed slim."

"Why did you come here in the first place?" Luke asked. "You thought we might be here for a holocron?"

Maul nodded and gestured to the distant temple. "Ancient secrets of the Sith lie within - yet I could not access the Temple alone."

"You said that before," the Sithling said, frowning in thought. "A Master and an Apprentice. C... Third Brother and I have explored places like that in the past." Maul noted the near-slip. Another name? More proof of rebellion against Darth Sidious, given what he knew about the Inquisitorius. "We were able to get in by working together, even though we don't have a training bond or anything like that."

"Hmmm." Maul assessed the pair. He would not have expected Sith acolytes of any kind to be easily capable of teamwork, but there was something odd about this Sithling Luke aside from his name. His openness, his eagerness, it did not seem to merely be a front over a more manipulative reality. His hidden depths were layered power and strength, not the shadowed, sickly malice that Sidious extruded. Both truth and lie were easily concealed in the shadows of the Dark, but those shadows had also been Maul's home since he was born. His senses did not often lead him astray these days. "It may be possible - but the holocron is _my_ prize." If only because he would need it to activate the temple's _other_ functions and he did not want anyone else to wield that particular power. 

" _Our_ prize, surely, if we help you get it," Luke said. 

"I thought _you_ were here for Jedi."

"If there's knowledge on there that could be used against the Emperor..."

Knowledge was not why Maul wanted it. He didn't even know what manner of information might be contained within. It was easy therefore to wave the boy's question off. "We shall see - if there _are_ such secrets then yes, it would be appropriate to share them." He cast his gaze around for the hilt of his saberstaff. It must have fallen somewhere nearby, hidden in the tangle of the ruins. He didn’t need to see it to find it though. The kyber crystals called to him. 

"The Sith have lost enough knowledge already," Luke said. Maul frowned. What an odd statement. 

"Darth Sidious has a vast collection of holocrons and other Sith artefacts. If you are so concerned with knowledge..."

"No, that's not what I meant," the Sithling said, "although... maybe if he does then things aren't as bad as I thought."

Maul had no desire to appear ignorant in front of this child, but it was equally vital to understand this boy's motivations and desires if they were to build any kind of alliance. "Explain."

"I... there was this holocron." Luke shot the Third Brother a somewhat guilty look. "I might have opened it, briefly."

The Inquisitor whirled, his surprise obvious. "You _did what?_ If the Emperor found out...!"

"He _didn't_ ," the boy replied. "The Sith inside the holocron talked to me. She told me about the Sith Empire, about all the different Sith lineages that used to be around, who all did things in different ways. And now there's just one line! Two Sith, always and forever."

"The line of Bane," Maul said. Darth Sidious had spoken of the glorious history of the Sith to him as an apprentice, but only to illustrate the ways in which Maul was unworthy of it, nothing more than a worm crawling on the ground before his _Master_ . _His_ heritage was of Dathomir, but even there he was a lesser being. He was no Nightsister. He had carved a place for himself in the universe that did not care about the past, about _legacy_ \- but that had not been due to any ambitions of empire but merely as a tool towards his eternal aim of revenge. 

An aim which had failed and fizzled in the years since Mandalore. Running a criminal enterprise hadn't brought him any closer to the ever elusive Kenobi, or to overthrowing Sidious - hence his turn to Malachor, to the lost secrets of the Sith which Sidious would have denied him. 

"Who was Bane?"

"The Sith who founded the rule of Two. The last survivor of the great war between Jedi and Sith.” He knew little more, only the brief basis of the man’s philosophy. “He believed infighting amongst the Sith had weakened them and allowed the Jedi to triumph. The only way to avoid this was to limit the number of Sith to a single Master with a single Apprentice.” Even while speaking he had been casting out his awareness in the Force, and now he felt it. The raging fury of his kybers, only a short distance away. 

“Was he right?” The boy’s question rippled in the Dark, sincere and heart-felt. Maul scowled, distracted. 

“I am no scholar of that time. I do not know.”

“The Sith in the holocron… she was horrified that there’s only one line around now. What if the Jedi managed to kill the Master before their Apprentice was anywhere near ready?”

Maul snorted. “I would not shed tears over the ending of the Sith Lords,” he said. “The Dark Side will survive without them.” 

Now it was Luke’s turn to scowl. “I know _that_. Just… how can you say that? Aren’t you a Sith?”

It might be unwise to be so open, but if the Sithling didn’t understand who he was working with he could react badly if he found out later. “I am no longer a Sith. Not Darth. Just Maul.”

“Why? Because of Darth Sidious?” 

“Of course,” Maul replied with a sneer. 

He could see the question hovering on the boy’s lips, the desire to ask what had happened. Maul didn’t know how to answer that in any way that would do justice to the vast well of hatred that burned at the core of him. Betrayal, that was the heart of it. With the benefit of hindsight he doubted Sidious had ever thought of him as a _true_ Sith Apprentice. He was nothing more than a stalking fathier to grasp the Jedi’s attention, to distract them while Sidious arranged his own election to the position of Supreme Chancellor. His death at their hands had been anticipated and expected, and even though his _Master_ must have _known_ through their training bond that he had not suffered a true death he had made no attempt to search for him in the aftermath, just let that bond wither and die. No-one had come for him, not until his mother sent Savage after him. He was abandoned, expected to slink away into some dark corner of the galaxy and never emerge to trouble his Master’s plans again. 

Luke did not ask. He must be able to feel the building pressure of Maul’s rage, and knew better than to give any cause to unleash it. Instead he said, “You’re willing to work with me though?”

“ _You_ are not a Sith _yet_ , boy. There can only be two.”

“I don’t see why Bane’s rules should still be followed,” Luke replied. “There’s plenty of Inquisitors - don’t they count? Anyway, there _have_ to be better ways to deal with infighting than reducing the power and knowledge of the Sith down to a single line. Even if Bane had a whole vault of holocrons and… and records, there’s no way he could have preserved _everything_ about the other Sith. They must have all had their secrets. Things only they knew?”

“Perhaps.” Maul shook his head. He did not see the relevance of ancient history. The goal was bringing down Sidious, what did the rest of this matter?

“You could be against Sidious and still be a Sith,” the boy said. 

“I will burn my own path through the galaxy,” Maul replied. “Constrained by _no-one_.”

“Okay,” Luke said. “Once Sidious is dead though…”

“Planning for that already?” Maul said, baring his teeth. “It will not be so easy.” He had failed once already. That had been painful enough. _Savage… my brother_.

“I’m not going to follow the Rule of Two. We’re stronger when there’s more of us. When we work together.” There was durasteel solid determination in each word. They dropped into the depth of the Dark Side leaving spreading ripples in their wake. “We wouldn’t have any quarrel with you, afterwards. Would you have any with us?”

“ _That_ depends on what you mean by ‘us’,” Maul said. 

“The Inquisitors,” the boy said. “And… Darth Vader I suppose.”

Maul snarled. “I spoke of working with _you_ child, not with _Vader_.”

Luke sighed. “What’s _he_ done to you?” 

“Do not take such a flippant tone with me.” Vader? Vader himself had done nothing, except be another tool to Sidious’ will. That did not mean Maul wanted anything to do with Kenobi’s former padawan, the man who had once been Anakin Skywalker. Nor, he imagined, would Vader want anything to do with _him_. 

It was Vader who stood in the way of trying to locate Kenobi and enact a long-deserved, long-awaited revenge in the years since Mandalore. Oh, Maul knew the man was alive. Vader’s bounties proved that. Yet equally Kenobi knew that he was being chased, and not even all of Crimson Dawn’s resources had been enough to bring him to ground. 

Vader hadn’t succeeded either. He took some pleasure in that. 

“Well, let’s worry about that later,” Luke said, putting the question aside. He was looking upwards, gaze distant, past the stone ceiling far above. “I sense the Jedi will be here soon.”

Sudden suspicion woke in Maul’s heart. “ _Which_ Jedi are you here hunting?”

“Four of them,” Luke explained. “Kanan Jarrus and his padawan Ezra, Ahsoka Tano and her padawan Leia.”

“Lady Tano?” Maul raised an eyebrow. He hadn’t been certain whether or not she still lived but… No, he could not ask her to join him again. It was too late for that, and he had already thrown his lot in with these two. “She is a formidable duellist.”

“So everyone says,” Luke replied. “Wait. You know her?”

“A very long time ago.”

“So you’ve fought her? But you’re both still… alive.”

“Her compassion is her weakness. She intended to take prisoners.” 

“So do I,” the boy said. The Dark Side gathered around him like a cloak, like a growling beast. He was very serious about that. “I hope that's not going to be a problem.”

“You would have them Fall?” Maul snorted. “Ahsoka Tano will not break.”

“They deserve the chance to make that choice,” the Sithling said. “Besides, we need all the help we can get to defeat the Emperor, right?”

“Take care that you do not bring him a weapon to turn against you,” Maul cautioned. “His manipulations are subtle and effective.”

“One problem at a time,” Luke said. “We have to capture the Jedi first.”

Maul had no ideological objections to the idea of working with former Jedi. Again, it was a matter of ensuring that their goals aligned. He had tried to bring an entire planet together once with the aim of eventually standing against his Master - the boy might be foolish to attempt the same thing with Inquisitors of all beings but... perhaps not. “We must ensure they are separated from each other,” he said. “Taking them one by one affords the highest chance of success. With Tano, it will be vital.”

Luke nodded. “We don’t have long,” he said. “Let’s make a plan.”


	36. Chapter 36

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Jedi arrive on Malachor and meet only danger.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content warnings for betrayal, strangulation and what is essentially torture.

**3 BBY - Malachor, Malachor system, Chorlian Sector, Outer Rim Territories**

Malachor wasn't much to look at when they came out of hyperspace. Kanan took them down through the clouds over barren plains and rugged mountains, looking for anything that seemed unusual, something that would lead them to their intended destination. 

[ _I'm picking up another ship,_ ] Chopper said, from his position interlaced with the _Phantom's_ systems. 

"A ship?" Ezra asked. "What sort of ship?"

[ _Can't tell_ ] Chopper said, after a moment. [ _Signal's faint. It's coming from planetary east of us._ ]

"Track it," Kanan ordered. "It's a lead. We should see who else is interested in this place - they might be who we're meant to meet here."

Ezra hadn't gotten the idea that they were meant to find a _person_ here, but it wasn't like the loth-wolf had given them much to go on. Chopper burbled his agreement, and took over control of the shuttle from Kanan. They banked and a few minutes later some kind of crater came into view. Or... not a crater exactly. It was a circle of sharp-edged mountains jutting up from the terrain around it, but that could be something else couldn't it? A... volcano. Ezra had some vague memory of learning about planetary geology before his parents were taken by the Empire. After that school hadn't really been an option. 

Chopper brought them down inside the circle, landing on what was an almost perfectly flat surface of dark grey stone. The only imperfections were a set of pillars that were sticking up from the rock, and a few areas where the rock seemed to have crumbled away into holes of various sizes. There was an almost mirror sheen to it; Ezra could see his own reflection under his feet. “It’s got to be around here somewhere,” Kanan said, his gaze scouring the totally empty plain. “Chopper, keeping trying to get a fix on that ship’s location.”

[ _Yeah, sure_. ] Chopper replied, saluting. 

They had set down not far from one of the strange pillars. Ahsoka led the way closer. Next to her, Leia frowned. “I sense something,” she said. “The Dark Side is strong here, but… something here feels familiar.” She cut off whatever she had been about to say. Very briefly the light of understanding shone in her eyes, but it was gone by the time Ahsoka turned to look at her. 

“Familiar? In what way?” she asked. 

“I’m not sure,” Leia replied. “I’ll tell you if I figure it out.” 

Their shadows stretched out behind them as they approached the pillar. This close, Ezra could see hieroglyphics cut into its surface in rows that seemed to cover the thing from bottom to top on this side. “What are these things?” 

Ahsoka gave the pillar a look of intense concentration. “This writing…” she said. “I don’t recognise all of it, but I think some of it is in the old language.”

“You actually _remember_ those lessons?” Kanan asked. 

“I’ve always had a knack for languages,” Ahsoka replied, skimming her fingers just above the glyphs. 

“So… you can read it?” Leia asked. 

“I can try.” She knelt down, following a row of writing closer to the base of the pillar. She began to sound out words that were nothing like Ezra had ever heard before. He couldn't pay that much attention; there was something distracting him. A low hum on the edge of his hearing, a faint sensation of warmth like being close to a heater. He thought it was coming from the obsidian stone in front of them. The hum became a whisper. If he only got closer, listened harder, he would be able to make sense of it… 

He reached out. His hand touched the pillar. 

“Ezra!” Kanan said. “Don’t…” 

It was too late. Red light blossomed under Ezra’s palm as something inside him mirrored the power inside the pillar in a single moment of _connection_. Though he snatched his hand away, it left a crimson print behind - then the light started to spread through the hieroglyphs, down into the stone below their feet. There was a loud crack. 

A pause the length of a breath. A moment of weightlessness. Then the fall. 

Ezra landed rolling, the wind knocked out of him with a painful impact against his ribs. There hadn’t been much time to grasp the Force and slow his descent. Groaning, he managed to get his arms and legs under him and pushed himself up on elbows and knees. It was dark down here but not the pitch-black of a cave. Instead light seemed to filter down from somewhere overhead. He looked around at the three other moving, grumbling shapes. It looked like everyone was in one piece. 

“Ezra, are you okay?” Leia had recovered quickly, or been better about sticking the landing. She came over and helped Ezra stand up, giving him a once-over for any obvious injuries. 

“I’m alright,” he replied, giving her a quick smile. “Where are we?”

“I’m not sure,” she said, looking around. “This isn’t what I was expecting.”

The pillar continued all the way down here - the part of it they’d seen up top was only a small piece of it sticking up above the surface. Ezra had no idea how that plain of flat rock had come into existence covering up… was this some kind of _city?_ Everywhere he looked there were buildings, other pillars reaching up to the roof, and in the centre of it all… 

“That doesn’t look good,” he said. 

“It isn’t,” Ahsoka replied. Her voice was grim. “It’s a Sith Temple.” 

The building was massive, a four-sided pyramid capped with some kind of red glass, or maybe crystal. There was a hole in the ceiling directly above the point, which felt oddly ominous. The city spread out all around it, a tangle of ruined stone buildings half-hidden by shadows. Thick, heavy silence pressed down over everything. Ezra felt like he should be whispering and walking on tiptoe just looking at it all. 

“So,” he managed to force out, “are we… meant to go there or something?”

“We’re looking for a way to defeat the Sith,” Leia replied. “Perhaps their temple contains some kind of clue about their weaknesses?” 

Ezra looked to Kanan who only shrugged. “It makes some kind of sense,” he said. “It also looks like the only possible way out unless Chopper can bring the _Phantom_ in through some other hole.”

“I don’t like it,” Ahsoka said quietly, “but I agree that there doesn’t seem to be another option.”

She set off, with the three of them following closely behind. They picked their way through rubble choking the streets, and Ezra found himself looking this way and that, mesmerised by this forgotten place, by the strange architecture of the buildings. Had people lived here once, or had it been some kind of ceremonial, holy city? Hieroglyphs and odd symbols were carved everywhere, tantalising him with their unknown meanings.

This felt nothing like the Lothal Temple. He didn’t know _what_ it felt like. The central pyramid was a looming weight of Dark Side power making his skin crawl with the sense that it was somehow watching them, but the streets? The ruins? They felt different. Solemn, dusty… _dead_. 

“What do you sense here?” he whispered to Leia. She was more sensitive to these things, surely she could pick out more? 

“Something terrible happened here once,” she said. Her face was pale, her eyes distant. “I sense… echoes in the Force. Voices crying out.” 

They descended along the length of some kind of toppled obelisk and leapt down the last foot into an open plaza that was decorated with these strange, twisted statues. A massive, crumbled gate marked the centre of the space, its significance lost to time. It was still hard to make out any details, though light came down in shafts. There must be lots of small holes in the ceiling above letting it through. Perhaps if they’d spent more time searching up there they would have noticed them. 

His comlink chirped. [ _Scans show the crust is thin._ ] Chopper said, with a suspicious nonchalance. [ _You might fall through the surface._ ] 

“Thanks for the heads-up,” Ezra replied, rolling his eyes. “Or are you going to pretend you didn’t notice us disappear?” 

Kanan hummed disapprovingly in the back of his throat. “Did you get a fix on that ship yet?” he asked. 

[ _Of course. I’m good at my job. Sending coordinates to you now._ ]

“He’s picked up the trail,” Kanan said. “This way.”

“Have you ever seen a Sith temple before, Ahsoka?” Ezra asked, as they continued to close in on the pyramid. 

“Nothing like this,” she replied. “I don’t expect getting inside is going to be easy, but the Force wouldn’t have sent us here unless there was a reason.”

“I don’t like that there’s another ship down here,” Kanan said, frowning. “We can’t know how long it’s been here, but it suggests that we’re not alone.”

“Who else would come to a place like this?” Ezra asked. 

“The Emperor,” Ahsoka suggested. “Although we would already know if _he_ was here.”

“Yeah, can’t really imagine the ruler of the galaxy going anywhere without an escort of Star Destroyers,” Ezra said, trying to smile. This place didn’t make the expression come naturally. 

“Hmm.” Ahsoka sounded unconvinced. “I’m sure there’s all kinds of forbidden knowledge in there. It is true that you have to understand your enemies to destroy them, but we need to be careful.” 

Ezra was about to ask something else when he realised that Leia hadn’t said anything in a while. He turned to look at her and saw that… their party was one person short. “Um. Where’s Leia?” 

Ahsoka whirled around, her eyes going wide. “What? I…” She scanned the ruins all around them. “I thought she was just behind you!”

“So did I!” Ezra did his best to look around as well, but there were so many shadows, so many places to hide. It wasn’t as though Leia would just have wandered off, right? The other option was far more terrifying to think about. He opened his mouth to start shouting her name, but Kanan darted forwards and grabbed his arm with an emphatic shake of his head. 

“We are _not_ alone down here,” he hissed. “Don’t alert them.”

“We retrace our steps,” Ahsoka said. “If Leia had been attacked we would have felt it in the Force - but there are other kinds of dangers in Sith places. She may not have left us of her own free will.”

Ezra _really_ didn’t like the sound of that.

\----

Leia glared out into the darkness, hands on her hips. “Luke!” she called, doing her best to keep her voice low as possible but still let it carry. “Luke! I know you’re here!” She’d sensed his presence since they landed, although he wasn’t being obvious so it had taken her a little while to work out what she was feeling. Her sense of him had only grown stronger since descending. The other ship had to belong to him, which meant he was most likely with that other Inquisitor as well. Coming to find him and face him like this was probably foolish, but her lightsaber combat was coming on in leaps and bounds and she wasn't _afraid_ of her own brother! 

Movement in the dark. Shadows against shadows. 

“Leia.” Luke’s voice came from the shelter of two leaning stone pillars to her left. He emerged but held his distance. She hadn’t seen him in person for months now, not since Mustafar. Almost a year. At their age even that short time left them both looking slightly but noticeably different. Older. They stared at each other for a moment in awkward silence. 

“What are you doing here?” Leia asked. One of them had to be the first to talk, to break the tension. 

“I could ask you the same question. This is a Sith place. I saw you and the other rebels in a vision from the Force, and I _did_ think it was strange that you would come here.”

She couldn’t exactly tell him they were here looking for a way to defeat the Sith. “So it’s the same mission as always,” she said quietly. “You’re here to try and capture us. To try and get us to fall to the Dark Side.”

“Would you rather I tried to kill you?” 

Leia hissed through her teeth. “Of course not!” 

“I don’t have a choice about this Leia,” Luke’s golden eyes were very serious. “There’s no more running, no more avoiding reality. One of us is going to have to defeat the other, because the way things are right now neither of us have any other options. Only… If you win, I’m going to die.”

Leia took in a sharp breath, feeling like she’d just been punched in the ribs. Anger came in the wake of it. “Why would you say something like that! I’m not going to kill you! It doesn’t matter if I win a lightsaber duel, I can do that without anyone dying and then…” She had been going to say she, Ahsoka and the others would escape from here once they had what they wanted, but… why in the Force should she leave him behind? Why not just take him with her? Then Luke would be away from the malicious influence of Vader and the Inquisitorius and he might not _like_ it, he might not be _happy_ with that plan, but she certainly wasn’t happy with the version of events where he captured her either! Her anger at what had felt like a kind of manipulation died away. 

Capturing _him_ was another solution to the dilemma they both found themselves in. 

Luke was frowning. “Leia, I can’t keep failing. The Emperor himself gave us a deadline. This is our last chance. Yes, maybe you could defeat me and get away yet again, but it would still mean death. I’m _not_ going to kill you. I _refuse_ to kill you. The only way out of this that ends with us both alive is if you surrender, to me and to the Dark Side.”

Was he really not seeing the other option there? It felt so obvious to Leia now, that Luke’s words and him throwing the idea of his own death in her face like that felt manipulative. Like the kind of thing Ahsoka would tell her a Sith would do, using her love as a weapon against her. For a moment, she doubted. 

No. Leia shook herself out of it. She’d only thought of the other way out in this moment, so how could she blame him for not considering it? 

“Or you could come with _me_ ,” she suggested. “I said before that you could join the Rebellion and I _know_ what you’re going to say, that the Rebellion won’t get you close to the Emperor and the goal of cutting the head off the viper, but it’ll let you do more than _dying_ would.”

Luke was already shaking his head. “No. I can’t do that. I’ve come too far…”

“So I’m supposed to just roll over and betray _my_ ideas because of what's best for you?” Force, he was being so _frustrating_ . “Why don’t _you_ compromise for once? Maybe it’ll take longer, maybe the fight will be harder, but it’s the right way of doing things!”

“Compromise?” Luke glared at her. “I’m compromising every time I do something terrible for the Inquisitorius that keeps me on this path, that gets me closer to killing the Emperor. Hunting you - _that’s_ a compromise! It’s not because I _want_ to…”

“Is it really a compromise?” Leia demanded. “Or are you just telling yourself that because it’s easier than admitting you don’t actually care as much about hurting people as you say you do!” Maybe she was being unfair, but it didn’t _feel_ unfair. Not when some part of her was so afraid that it could be true. She trusted him - or she _wanted_ to trust him, but… “You’ve got this idea of what you want in your head and it's so fixed there that you’re ignoring all the other paths you could take to get there - maybe less direct, maybe less effective, but still options! Options that _wouldn’t_ compromise your morals. Options that would mean we could be brother and sister! Options that would let you walk in the Light…”

“And if I don’t _want_ to walk in the Light?” Luke replied, voice sharp. “What if I want to keep on using the Dark Side? Will your rebel friends be as forgiving as you are Leia? Will they _let_ me work with them? Or will your Jedi Masters tell you I need to die or be locked up forever unless I turn back to the Light?”

Leia looked away. She’d tried so many times to persuade Ahsoka that Dark and evil weren’t the same thing, that Luke wasn’t somehow driven to do horrible things just because of the way that he used the Force. She hadn’t managed to convince her, not really. Oh, perhaps Ahsoka did agree that Luke could care about others like a Sith couldn’t, but that didn’t mean she would agree so easily to trust him if he said that he wanted to switch sides. She would suspect a trap, suspect he was nothing but a spy. 

The spark of hope that had been building in her heart started to ebb away. 

“So either way, one of us has to turn their back on their side of the Force,” she said. 

“That seems to be the only way it can go.”

Briefly she closed her eyes. When she opened them again it was with a renewed determination. “Fine,” she said. “But I’m not going to surrender. I’m not going to _let_ you win. If your plan is really the best one, then prove it to me.” She drew her lightsaber and held it at her side, thumb hovering over the activation stud. She fixed her brother with a glare and nodded. “Come on.” 

Slowly, Luke drew his own saber, the hilt set in that same circular housing all the Inquisitors used. There was a look of regret on his face. “If that’s the way you want this to go,” he said. “I’m sorry Leia. There’s too much at stake here for me to play fair.” Behind her she heard another lightsaber activate - and then another. She whirled, raising her own saber to guard as two more Inquisitors closed in around her, trying to keep them all in view. Her heart twisted in her chest. 

She didn’t see a way out of this. 

Why were there three of them? Who was this new Inquisitor, this strange zabrak with the different lightsaber design? Or perhaps not an Inquisitor, because he wasn't dressed like one. Luke alone she could _maybe_ have defeated, against two her victory was unlikely, but against three she had no chance. Leia let the layers of shielding and protection over her Force presence fall and _pushed_ a cry for help out into the Light. The other two Darksiders paused, swaying slightly from the effect, but not Luke. He leapt in to attack, expression hard and determined. She could only hope her friends had heard her. She could only hope they would reach her in time. 

\----

_What was that?_ Vader demanded in the back of his head. Luke dodged Leia’s riposte and twisted out of the way of Maul so that he didn’t foul the other Sith’s attack. 

_Not now!_ he replied. _I’m busy_. 

_You are duelling again._ Luke didn’t think he was imagining the disapproval in Vader’s tone. _Tano? Take care my Apprentice, for she is…_

Luke was getting very tired of people telling him how wary he should be of Ahsoka Tano. _Then stop distracting me!_ he sent back. Leia was no pushover when it came to combat either, which made sense. She’d been trained by both Ahsoka and Obi-wan Kenobi, two excellent duellists. She was putting up a good fight. Her blade was a blur of blue flashing between their whirls of crimson, her defence excellent. That made sense for a Jedi, Luke supposed, since they weren't meant to be aggressive. He darted back in, pressing Leia back, forcing her to give ground. 

Around them the Force danced. Light pushed against Dark, crashing back and forth, billowing in clouds of smoke surrounding the sun, turning metaphorical day into twilight. They were predators surrounding fierce prey, weakening it gradually, bringing it closer and closer to the inevitable. Luke let that sense of working-together envelop him, strengthen him. He fell into his place in the dance, not needing to ask or analyse when he should move forward or fall back, when he should duck or dodge or deflect to pass the advantage on to the next dancer in the line. 

Leia could only hold out so long. She turned to block Cal’s strike coming from her rear, dodged the swipe from Luke that left her off-balance and over extended, then Maul’s kick to her wrist dashed her lightsaber from her hand with the crack of breaking bone. 

With a final twist Maul swept Leia’s legs out from under her and followed her down to the ground, grabbing her wrists into a hold at the small of her back and pinning her with his knee across her thighs. She twisted and raged in his grasp, the Force a snarl around her, vibrating needles of Light that cut and stabbed. For a moment all of that energy coalesced in her chest and exploded outwards in a massive Force push - but Maul was ready for it. His defences held steady, steeped in the Dark. The Light bent and washed around him like he was a rock in a stream. 

Cal crouched and picked up her lightsaber, hooking it onto his belt. Luke approached cautiously. Leia caught sight of him and twisted to look at him properly. Her face showed every inch of the betrayal she felt, and he realised with a stab of pain that tears were gathering at the corners of her eyes. As he knelt down next to her she whispered, “Luke. Luke, don’t do this. Please.”

Luke looked away. His eyes ended up meeting Maul’s - he wasn’t sure what he’d expected to see from the Sith, but a kind of sympathy and understanding wasn’t it. Maul had to have heard everything that they said to each other. He had to realise that they were related, that they hadn’t been as adversarial before as a Sith and a Jedi were meant to be. 

“Family,” Maul said, with an odd smile. “I see why you want her by your side now.”

It wasn’t condemnation. Luke would take it. He reached inside his pocket and drew out the two halves of the shock collar. The Light was about being calm, about focusing on what _it_ wanted not on your own goals. Pain would be a distraction rather than a tool, up until the moment she learned to use it and called the Dark instead. It was the only way.

Ignoring the fear in his sister’s eyes, he leaned forwards to snap it closed around her neck. 

“You forgot the chain, _slaver_ ,” she snarled at him. Luke flinched back - but there wasn’t another _choice!_ And anyway, she was right. The Inquisitors were slaves. Luke was a slave. In saving her life he was also condemning her to just that same fate. He took a deep breath, and nodded to BeeDee, crouching in the shadows of a pillar where he’d been able to stay well away from the fight. 

Beedee activated the collar. 

Immediately Leia tensed as the low-level current flooded through her. A low sound of pain escaped from gritted teeth. Cal tossed a pair of standard-issue cuffs to Maul, who clicked them into place around her wrists and stood up. 

“One Jedi down,” the Sith said. “I will meet you by the temple entrance with the next.”

“Luke, are you sure it’s a good idea to let him go off on his own?” Cal asked, giving Maul a suspicious glare. The Sith replied with a cool smile. 

“The enemy of my enemy is my friend, isn’t that right?” Luke said. Addressing Maul, he added, “Who's more likely to give you the revenge you’re looking for? Us, or the Jedi?”

“Lady Tano spurned my last offer,” Maul told him. “I doubt she would be any more congenial this time.”

Cal snorted, not entirely convinced, and helped Leia to her feet. “Hey,” he said. “Sorry about this. Better your head than ours though.” 

“They said… you were a padawan once,” Leia managed to say. She was taking shallow but even breaths, trying to work through the pain from the collar and from her broken wrist. Luke felt a pang of sympathy. He knew what she was feeling, intimately. That also meant he knew she would survive it, and come out stronger on the other side. 

“And now I’m an Inquisitor,” Cal said. “This way.”

Leaving Maul behind, they headed for the foot of the temple, vast and patiently waiting for their arrival. 

\----

Maul returned to the cover of the shadows and drew a cloak of the Dark Side around him, slipping below the quiet, still surface of that black and sunless sea. His presence became one with the night, and he watched as the Jedi ran right past his hiding place following the trail of their captured friend. There she was. Lady Tano. Last he’d seen her she had just been blossoming into the fullness of her power and now she was even more a bright and perfect crystal, a beacon in the Light. She might not call herself a Jedi, and given that her skills had been sharpened, focused and honed in the fires of war it might indeed be more accurate to call her something else, yet she was the match of any in that Order. 

The man at her side was less impressive, but it was not a fair comparison. There was a quiet strength to him as well, a stillness in the Light but also something else. Just a hint of something angry and protective around the edges. An imperfection. 

They were not his target. The boy was. The weakest link in the chain - and chains, after all, were meant to be broken. 

Maul timed his moment, and as they reached the point he had been waiting for he gathered the Force to him, reached out to the pillar before him and _shoved_. With a crack and the groan of stone on stone it toppled forwards in a cloud of dust. Voices cried out in surprise - Maul felt Tano raise the Force in a shield around them - but he had not been aiming for the Jedi. 

The stone below the boy crumbled, just another shell above another layer. Like the Dark Side itself, one could always delve deeper, secrets concealed beneath the surface. With a scream, the padawan fell. 

“Thin the herd,” Maul muttered to himself, a slow smile spreading. He darted away to find his own path below. 

\----

Ezra picked himself up, coughing, and looked up at the hole some way above him. “Ezra!” Kanan called down to him. “Ezra, are you okay?”

“I’m not hurt,” Ezra shouted. Not seriously anyway. It was mostly his pride that was bruised. He tried to measure the distance he would have to jump if he hoped to get back up there, but it was too far even if he used the Force to help him. 

“Is there any way back up?” Kanan asked. 

Ezra looked around. How far down did this place go? It didn’t even look that different down here; just more ruins and maybe even less light filtering from the surface. It was colder though. He couldn’t hold back a shiver. “I don’t see anything nearby,” he replied. “But… nothing dangerous either.” Leia was still in trouble. The _reason_ they’d been running in the first place had almost been knocked out of his mind by the impact, but he could still feel her in the Force, broadcasting pain and panic. It wasn’t as clear as it had been in that one brief, sharp moment of desperation where Leia had cried out for their help, but she still needed them. 

The fact that Ezra could still sense her so strongly meant something. It meant she was still alive, for one thing. It also meant she must have been captured, because what other option was there? By _who_ , that was the question. The Inquisitors? Someone else? They still hadn’t found the other ship that was down here. 

“We’ll figure out a way to get you up,” Kanan said, peering carefully over the edge of the hole. Rock shifted in a scatter of falling dust and he disappeared again, moving away from what was apparently an unstable area. 

“No!” Ezra replied. “Leia needs you! I’ll make my own way out. There’s got to be ways to get between the levels.”

“Are you sure Ezra? Splitting up isn't a good idea.” 

“Leia is in trouble! I’ll be _fine_ Kanan! Go!”

He could sense Kanan’s hesitation, but after a moment he called back, “Be careful down there! If you see _any_ sign of trouble, call us.” 

“I will.” 

The noise of their footsteps moved away. Ezra turned back to his surroundings, trying to make out anything in the gloom. There really wasn’t much light at all down here. He was alone. That… started to feel a little bit uncomfortable. It was silent apart from his own breathing. Quiet and cold and very dead. He shivered, pulled his lightsaber from his belt, activated it and held it out just to have some real illumination. The blue glow lit up the clouds of slowly swirling dust that his fall had kicked up, lending a ghostly, unreal air to everything. 

“This would be a lot easier if I could figure out where I am,” he said to himself. 

“I know where you are,” somebody said, in the darkness. 

Ezra froze only for a second, then he whirled around on the man with his lightsaber held at guard in front of him. He scanned the ruins, the tangled shapes of stone looking for one that was out of place, that was moving. 

Soft laughter. “You’re here with me. Please, put your weapon away. I mean you no harm.” 

That… that felt like the truth. Ezra wasn’t sensing any kind of ill intentions from this man. He wasn’t sensing very much of anything though, except that he was Force-sensitive and was shielding his mind. A dim shape emerged from the gloom. A stooped figure approached, back hunched, hands resting on a cane that he leaned on for support. A length of dark, dusty cloth was wrapped around his head and shoulders, falling over his chest and back. He didn't look dangerous, but in a place like this that almost seemed more suspicious. 

"Stay back," he said, pointing the tip of his blade at the stranger. "I'm warning you old man." Who was this? The owner of the other ship? The person who had taken Leia? No, that last one couldn't be right. Leia was too good of a fighter to be defeated by somebody who couldn't even stand up straight. Still, what kind of person lived in a place like this? 

"Forgive me," the old man said. "It... it's just, I've been alone so long. It's been years since I've spoken to anyone." 

Ezra reached out with the Force, fear and wariness making his heart pound in his ears. The Dark Side was so close down here, so heavy. It seemed to breathe in every shadow - and there were a lot of shadows. Was the stranger lying to him? Was this some kind of trap? He... he couldn't feel anything. Nothing except close, tight shields shimmering like dark mirrors, and then the cold and ash of the tainted Force. "You live here alone?" he asked. "Here in the dark?" If he genuinely was telling the truth, how had he even survived? There didn't seem to be any obvious sources of food or water. This whole necropolis felt like it had been abandoned for years. 

"Not by choice," the stranger replied. "My ship crashed. I'm trapped. Marooned. I've had to scrounge and scrape to survive." Ezra still couldn't get a good look at him. It was too dark down here. The story was plausible he supposed, but it didn't explain why the man had come here in the first place. 

"I'm sorry," he said. "I wish I could help you, but I have to get back to my friends." He _really_ didn't like being alone down here. 

"Well, perhaps I could help _you_ ," the stranger offered. "I have had time to learn how to navigate this place. Why are you and your friends here?"

Ezra narrowed his eyes. "I'm not gonna answer that," he said. "I don't know you, and I certainly don't trust you."

"You have nothing to _fear_." That... that last word came out strange, almost echoing. As though something out in the darkness had whispered it back. A shiver ran along Ezra's spine. 

"I'm not afraid," he said, which was absolutely a lie. 

"Perhaps you came here for the same reason I did, long ago," the stranger said. "You seek knowledge."

"Right now, I'm seeking my friends," Ezra replied. Then a rather depressing thought struck him. "It's in the pyramid, isn't it."

"The knowledge we both seek? Yes. It is inside the temple."

Ezra groaned. "I don't have _time_ for this. I have to find the others, we have to help Leia, we have to find out who else is down here. We have to focus on that _first_."

"Your friends seemed skilled," the stranger said. "I'm sure they will rescue your other friend without your assistance."

He was probably right, but that didn't mean... wait. "I never said anything about what kind of help she needed. I never said she needed to be rescued." He flicked his lightsaber back up; he had let it dip down as their conversation went on. The blue light caught the man's eyes, just a slight gleam beneath his hood. Not enough to even say what species he was other than humanoid. 

"Why else would you be in such a hurry?" the man said, his voice projecting an innocent tone. 

"The other ship arrived before we did," Ezra said. "Why haven't you tried to get _them_ to help you leave? Unless you already did, and you're working for them right now."

A sigh. "What a pity," the stranger said. He straightened up out of his hunch and Ezra caught a glimpse of geometric tattoos, black against red skin. "This would have been much easier if you simply came with me." Malice and malevolence opened up into the Force, a wave of the Dark Side that hit Ezra like a gut-punch, bringing nausea and sickly, freezing _fear_. 

Karabast. Karabast. Why hadn't he been able to sense any of this? 

Ezra backed away, not about to bother trying to attack. Even turning to run might be too late, if this _was_ whoever had taken Leia captive. He was all alone. Nobody was about to drop from the ceiling to rescue him. 

At least he would find out what had happened to Leia. 

The Darksider lashed out with the Force. Ezra did his best to shield with the Light the way he'd been taught, but he was no match for the tendrils of power that wrapped around him, holding him in place. Invisible shadows writhed around his throat and _squeezed_ . Ezra choked, trying to pull in air. His lightsaber fell from his hand as he scrabbled at his neck, instinct taking over because he couldn't _think_ just _panic._ It wasn't doing anything. His vision was getting hazy. Black spots danced in front of his eyes. His chest was burning. 

He was going to die down here. 

The Light wasn't enough. It hadn't helped him and he couldn't even concentrate enough to use it right now - his mind was a blank static of terror and he was drowning, the Dark Side was closing in, crushing him, he had to... he had to get away. Get out. He was flailing around for something he could use and he felt it when something hooked into the blur of pure emotion in his mind - or his wild emotions hooked into _it_. For a moment he could see again, could sense the grip around his throat in a different way as though he could actually do something with it... but then his tentative grasp was shaken free. 

"So close," a soft voice purred nearby. "but not enough, little padawan."

He blacked out.


	37. Chapter 37

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Sith delve the Temple's secrets before a final confrontation atop the pyramid.

**3 BBY - Malachor, Malachor system, Chorlian Sector, Outer Rim Territories**

When Ezra woke up he was being carried over someone’s shoulder, his head swaying gently back and forth. He had a splitting headache, his hands were cuffed together, and the position wasn’t very comfortable to begin with. He groaned before he could think better of it, then froze when the man - the _Sith_ \- stopped walking. There was a low chuckle. Ezra felt it up through the Sith’s chest, vibrating against his ribs. 

“Welcome back,” that smooth, soft voice said. “What good timing.” 

Ezra didn’t want to examine _that_ statement too closely. The Sith started walking again, and Ezra twisted slightly in his grasp to try and see where they were going. He managed to catch an upside-down glimpse of the pyramid at the centre of the city, significantly closer now, but very little else. After not much more than a minute he was slung down off the man’s shoulder and dropped unceremoniously onto the ground. Ezra wriggled upright and looked around, his heart sinking.

He’d found Leia at least. She was sitting with her back against a fallen stone pillar, pressing her forehead against her bent knees and breathing slowly. At the noise of the Sith’s arrival she looked up and her expression twisted in dismay. Ezra gave her a sheepish smile. Some rescuer _he_ turned out to be. 

There were other Darksiders here as well and worse, they were familiar. Luke and the Third Brother. This… this was bad. 

The one who’d captured him - a zabrak, now that Ezra could get a better look at him - went over to join the other Inquisitors. _Was_ he just an Inquisitor? He wasn’t wearing their uniform, and Ezra couldn’t see any sign of a circular-guard lightsaber, but why else would he be helping them? 

“Two down,” Luke said. 

“The most dangerous two remain,” the zabrak said. 

Luke shook his head, sighing. “I know they’re going to be harder. I’m just not sure how…”

“Threatening the ones they love is traditional,” the zabrak said. Ezra couldn’t see his face from here, but he could hear the smile in his voice. “Our hostages…”

“A nice thought,” the Third Brother said, “but they would be able to sense that we wouldn’t go through with it.” What? They wouldn’t? Well that was… nice? 

“You really think we would lose to Ahsoka?” Luke asked. 

“You would have lost to _me_ had you not known the technique of Force Lightning,” the zabrak said. That was frankly terrifying. Ezra needed to know who this guy was. There were only meant to be two Sith out there, and he wasn't Vader and he wasn't the Emperor. 

"Then maybe I _should_ call Darth Vader," Luke said, something a little like defeat in his tone. "With his help, capturing the last two shouldn't be a problem."

"No," Third Brother replied quickly. "Our mission... we're meant to be doing this ourselves. The Emperor won't be satisfied with our work if we don't deal with the Jedi threat on our own."

Luke gestured to the zabrak. 

“Well, the Emperor doesn’t know about him,” Third Brother said. 

Leia let out a soft sound of pain. Her brother's attention snapped to her immediately with a look of concern, but he didn't make any move to go check on her. Was that real worry, or just a show he was putting on? If he really cared about Leia, he wouldn't have captured her. He wouldn't be hurting her the way he obviously was. Ezra didn't see any injuries but Leia had her arms cuffed behind her back like he did; there might be something hidden there. Through gritted teeth, Leia said, "My offer still stands, Luke."

The zabrak chuckled. Third Brother's whole body was tense, with anger or something else. Luke only sighed and shook his head. 

"Whatever we do, we can't leave these two unguarded," he said. "Good as he is, I don't think Beedee is up to that task alone." 

A familiar little droid poked its head up over Third Brother's shoulder and beeped, trying to suggest it could in fact do that very competently. 

"Cal, you could stay while Maul and I go after the other Jedi," Luke suggested, although he didn't sound very convinced by his own idea. So, Third Brother had a name. So did the zabrak, it just wasn't one that meant anything to Ezra. Glancing at Leia, he saw her eyes flicker open, wide and shocked, and thought maybe it _did_ mean something to her. 

Cal - Third Brother- gave Luke a look that more than communicated how little he thought of _that_ plan. 

"Tano and Jarrus will not be as easy to separate from each other," Maul said. "They are too well trained to fall for cheap tricks."

"Then what's _your_ idea?" Luke asked. 

"We need not guard these padawans ourselves." The zabrak gestured to the broad wall sloping upwards before them, the flank of the massive pyramid. "The temple can do that for us."

"How much do you really know about what's in there?" Luke asked, golden eyes narrowing in suspicion. "What _specifically_ were you looking for?"

"The knowledge contained in a Sith holocron is not enough?" Maul replied. "It is a Sith temple. It will not be a kind place to Jedi."

"It's hardly a good plan if we leave them in there to get killed," Luke said. "That's the opposite of what we're trying to achieve here."

“Oh, there are so many things the Dark likes better than simple death,” Maul said. “It would be wiser to fight any Jedi within those walls anyway. Our power will be greater there, and they shall be farther from the Light.”

“I suppose so,” Luke replied. “You told us before that it needs two to enter. What do we do?”

“Follow,” Maul commanded, and turned to head along the outer wall of the pyramid. 

“You heard the man,” Third Brother said, coming over to heave Ezra up onto his feet. Luke was doing the same for Leia, albeit a lot more gently. “Come on.”

The Sith led them a short distance around the base of the pyramid to what was very obviously a door of some kind, a triangular shape plugged with solid rock and surrounded by pillars reaching upwards, power and dominance written in stone. “This was a place of worship, and an engine of destruction,” Maul said as they approached. “At its heart lies our prize.”

“An engine of destruction?” Luke said. “What does that mean exactly?”

“Old legends,” Maul explained. “You saw the statues on the level above?”

Luke and Cal nodded. Ezra had as well, he’d just thought they were a Sith’s idea of nice decor. He hadn’t looked at them very closely. 

“They are all that remains of the Jedi who once tried to attack this place, and the Sith that gave their lives to stop them,” Maul said. 

“Some kind of weapon?” Third Brother asked. “Who exactly are you planning on using this weapon against?”

“You assume it is something that can be moved,” Maul replied. “It is much more likely that it is a part of the temple. Unless we wished to draw our mutual enemy here there is little point in considering that option - as if he would ever be foolish enough to fall into such a trap.” He laughed, but it was not a pleasant sound at all. “The holocron though… that secrets of the Sith that it contains… that is far more _portable_.”

Luke took a few steps forwards, pressing one hand against the stone blocking the way forwards. The Dark Side, always there at the back of Ezra’s awareness, seemed to thicken around them. Ezra couldn’t shake the feeling of being watched. That the temple itself was watching them. 

“So… together?” Luke said, turning back to Maul. 

“Together.”

Luke’s hand rose and the Dark rose with it. Shuddering, the stone in the doorway began to rise into the wall above it, shedding dust as it went. Behind it was… more stone. Ezra frowned in confusion, but then Maul was doing the same thing, a slightly different sensation as shadows wrapped around them in the Force, a choking, suffocating, insidious power. Once again stone groaned and moved. The two Sith started to walk forward, still keeping the heavy weight of stone hovering above their heads. 

“Move.” Third Brother shoved Ezra in the back, sending him stumbling forwards. He corralled Leia too, a hand on each of their shoulders. 

Uneasily, they followed the Sith into the darkness of the Temple.

\----

The weight of Leia’s eyes on him was drilling into his spine. Luke could sense exactly how betrayed she felt and he couldn’t even say that she was wrong to feel that way. It _was_ a betrayal, and he really wished it hadn’t come to this but there simply wasn’t another choice. He understood the other option Leia had offered, but it wouldn’t work. The Jedi wouldn’t forget what he was or what he’d done, not to mention everyone he would be leaving behind. 

No, it had to go like this. Zar had given his life so Luke could change the Empire and the Inquisitorius. That _couldn't_ be in vain.

Breathing deeply, he reached out and pressed his bare hand against the stone door of the temple. It was oddly warm against his skin, welcoming him, urging him on. The Dark Side curled around him and he sensed the temple’s watchful anticipation like a promise held behind bared teeth. _Show me_ , it seemed to whisper to him. _Show me your strength. Show me your potential. Show me that you_ _**understand**. _

Luke let his awareness flow out, seeping through the rock. The stone in front of him was a massive slab blocking their way, and behind it lay another, then another, and so on down a long corridor leading deep inside. The Dark hung heavy around each stone, welcoming his touch. It offered him this opportunity - but perhaps if he’d come wielding the Light he would be experiencing something very different. 

He understood what they were meant to do. He opened his eyes, barely aware of them drifting closed in the first place, and turned to Maul. “So, together?” It was like the Sith had said, this needed a Master and an Apprentice. He and Maul weren’t that, didn’t mean that to each other, but the temple on Jagomir had been the same and he and Cal had been able to get inside anyway. 

“Together,” Maul said. Something darkly pleased pulsed into the Force, though Luke only caught the briefest impression of the emotion behind the swirling clouds of Maul’s Force presence. He moved forward so that they stood next to each other, then reached out. 

Luke felt the tension in the Dark Side. It was something like during their fight, when the Force had been torn between the two of them, called by them both and trying to align to their separate and opposed goals. They weren’t enemies any more. They were trying to achieve the same thing. Luke did his best to put aside his emotions about this whole situation with Leia and instead focused on the determination that let him know that what he was doing was _worth it_. He focused on the feeling of Maul standing at his side, the warm hope in his chest of having another friend who would help him fight against a greater evil, the bonds of pack that could bind the Inquisitors together if only they let it. The Dark obeyed his command, surging up through them both rather than dividing apart. There was no need for spoken words to communicate their intent. Luke took hold of the first piece of the doorway and heaved it up into the air. As it hung there, a poised and deadly weight, Maul raised the next in the chain. 

As one they stepped forward into the red light within. Luke could feel the dependable presence of Cal behind them and knew he would make sure their prisoners followed along. He didn’t need to split his attention; he could focus on the temple itself. 

One by one in a marching chain Luke and Maul led the way. Luke understood intuitively that he couldn’t afford to lose his focus or his hold on the Dark for a moment. The price for a failure to commit was death. Nor did he imagine the way out would be the same way that they came in. This was like crawling into the mouth of some vast beast, a metaphorical or perhaps metaphysical digestion inside and then… some kind of rebirth? That seemed overly literal. Turning to the Dark was meant to be a kind of rebirth, but anyone who made it in here would already be using that side of the Force. 

Finally the last stone dropped down behind them. The inside of the temple was dimly lit with wan red light, little more than would be thrown off by any of their lightsabers. The air was dry and dusty, but the Dark Side welcomed them in with its cool, comforting embrace. The tests were far from over, but even passing through one of them seemed to have pleased the nexus of power that lay within the temple. Their prisoners were less impressed with their surroundings. 

“It’s… it’s so _cold_ in here,” Ezra said, shivering in his bonds. Luke frowned. It seemed warm enough to him. 

“Is it?” Maul asked the padawan. “Or do you simply perceive it incorrectly?”

“If it needs the Dark Side to perceive it correctly, we’ll pass thanks,” Leia replied. Anger burned beneath the surface, the pain from the collar wearing away at her shields just enough for that to peek through. Her ability to touch the Light was being effected just as Luke had thought. She felt fuzzy around the edges, very unlike her usual self. 

Maul shook his head, tutting in mock disappointment. “Your anger is a wellspring of power, padawan. If you would but use it, you could easily break that collar from your neck.”

Leia looked away. A little of her focus returned as she released her anger into the Force. Luke watched it fade into the sharp energies of the Light, going where the brightness made it too hard to follow. Did the Light erase the emotions given to it? Burn them up? Pass them on to the Dark where they would be welcome? Or was it some strange mirror of the Dark’s love of sharing, echoing and amplifying emotion, simply taking them instead of returning them? 

“You both have such potential,” Maul said. “You boy, your rage might not burn as bright but you have touched the Dark already. I sensed it in you before and you showed it to me here. Do not be ashamed of that. Do not fear it. The Dark is strength waiting to be taken, not something to shrink from.”

Ezra looked to Leia, fear in his eyes. Leia didn’t rise to Maul’s bait though. She said nothing, and didn’t even meet Ezra’s gaze. 

Chirping with excitement, Beedee leapt down off Cal’s shoulder and trotted ahead of them to where a broad staircase led downwards. The light of his scanner played over the dust that gathered in the air, lighting it up in blue to match the crimson glow, melding into purple. 

“Whoa, Beedee,” Cal said. “Don’t get ahead of yourself.”

“Your droid is a curious little thing isn’t he?” Maul remarked. 

“He’s used to exploring ancient temples,” Cal said. “Which means he _knows_ to be careful.” He gave the droid a warning glare. Beedee warbled a not very convincing apology. 

“We should proceed,” Maul said. “Even now the other Jedi are searching for us. We must be ready.”

He was right, and besides the temple was calling them further in. They headed for the stairs, a straight shot down and in. The walls were the same dark smooth stone as outside, decorated with geometric red lines that might have been meaningful or might have been just decoration. The runes and symbols that also marked the staircase had to be more significant, but Luke couldn’t read them. He glanced sideways at Maul, but the Sith wasn’t pausing to examine them, wasn’t even looking at them. Did that mean he already knew what they would say, or that he just didn’t care? 

Perhaps the secrets at the temple’s heart were just more important. 

The Dark Side grew thicker and thicker as they descended, bringing with it a prickling faint euphoria. It was a little like the rush of endorphins that came from hard exercise, something based in the body, something primal and powerful. The Dark filtered in and filled up every inch of him until he was breathing it out like steam with each breath. Luke glanced down at his hands, almost expecting to see lightning-sparks flickering there. 

The stairs opened out into a vast chamber. In the very centre on a platform rising up from the chasm surrounding it was something that glowed from the inside with a strong red light. It was held in the grasp of a stone pillar, and the stone buttresses surrounding it made the whole platform look something like a crown. 

“Behold,” Maul said, “the key.”

That… was an interesting way of phrasing it. “The key to _what_?” Luke asked. “I get the sense there’s something you’re not telling us.” 

Maul didn’t deny it. “Only because I cannot be sure that it will work,” he said. “Even if it does not, I believe this holocron will still allow us to enter areas of the temple that would otherwise be inaccessible to us.”

Was it wise to refuse to go any further until he told the whole story? They only had a limited amount of time - and whatever else Maul had planned it was still true that they shared the same goal of killing the Emperor. The depth of hate Maul had felt towards Darth Sidious could not be faked. 

For now, Luke would go along with it. “This is the next test then,” he said. “Getting over there in the first place.”

“Only someone with the courage to risk oblivion is worthy to claim it.”

“If they were on their own,” Luke said, gauging the distance between them and the platform. “It needed two just to get in. This is another teamwork puzzle.” It had been the same on Jagomir, and that ended with a vision that Luke still didn’t fully understand. Perhaps this was a similar pattern. “Get ready to push me then.”

Maul nodded. Luke took a few steps backwards. The Dark Side was already so deep inside him it took hardly any effort at all to focus it in his muscles, run towards the edge and leap. He arced over the pit, almost enough to reach the platform on his own. His hands stretched out to grab the lip of the stone - then Maul’s power gathered beneath him and gave him a final lift. Luke made a graceful somersault in mid air and landed neatly next to the pillar. This close he could hear the holocron whispering at the edge of his awareness, although he couldn’t make out the words. 

He stood up, reached out, and pulled the holocron free. 

Immediately the temple reacted. The Dark Side rang like a massive gong, and awareness and intent surged up under his feet strong enough to stagger him and almost enough to knock him over. The part of the platform directly around the central pillar began to move upwards as stone panels above started to shift and slide aside. A fierce light shone down, some kind of electric field that crackled hungrily in the Force. He had the sense that this wasn’t the only part of the temple that was rearranging itself towards some specific purpose. 

“Maul,” he called down over the edge. “What is this?”

“It is not safe to remain where you are,” Maul replied. “Jump down!”

Luke hesitated, wondering if he was _meant_ to go towards that energy as part of the temple’s tests, but it didn’t feel right. Once again he gathered the Force into him and under him, and threw himself across the abyss. From this height distance wasn’t such an issue, just judging the moment to push out and cushion his landing. His recent training in the Ataru forms made this easier, and he didn’t even have to roll to disperse the last of his momentum. 

“Well?” Luke asked, straightening up. 

Maul held out his hand, wordlessly asking for the holocron. Luke scowled and held it away from him. 

“Answers first.”

“I did not expect the holocron’s removal to activate the temple’s weapon,” Maul replied, looking impatient. “We must reach the control chamber at the apex before it finishes powering up, unless you want to see its effects for yourself.”

“You called it an engine of destruction before,” Luke said, ideas ticking over inside his brain. “Why would the ancient Sith build a weapon that could only be used in the area around one of their own temples? You said yourself it killed Sith out there as well as Jedi. If the temple _is_ the weapon, then… is it only a temple?”

Maul smiled. Luke sensed a faint hint of something almost like pride directed towards Luke’s air of suspicion. “The tales I heard described it as a Sith battlestation,” he said. 

Luke felt the shock and alarm from Leia and Ezra, their sudden fear punching into the Force. He was just as surprised. 

“This place is some kind of _starship_?” Cal asked. 

“Perhaps once,” Maul said. “After so many millenia, who can say if it still functions.”

“Something functions,” Luke said, pointing up to the energy field still sparking. It felt somehow impatient. Waiting. He looked down at the holocron in his hands. If Maul was going to keep being vague, perhaps he should look elsewhere for answers. He reached out a tendril of the Dark towards it, but Maul interrupted his concentration. 

“Did you not hear me?” he demanded. “There is a need for urgency. We must go above, _now_.”

The irritating thing was that Luke suspected he was right. “Fine,” he said. “Let’s go.”

\----

There was no sign of Leia, and Ezra hadn’t rejoined them either. Ahsoka was growing more and more worried, and that had been _before_ Chopper found the other ship. The search was too urgent for them to meet him there, but the astromech sent them a scan of the vessel and it was very obviously an Imperial shuttle. So there were Inquisitors here, and they had Leia. 

“You know Leia’s Force signature better than I do,” Kanan said. “Where should we be looking?”

Ahsoka’s gaze fell on the pyramid at the centre of everything. “Inside the temple,” she said, with grim certainty. The direction hadn’t been clear at first, but after circling around this tomb of a city it had become obvious. It had been their destination anyway, but the presence of Inquisitors changed things significantly. More so when she was sure they had to be Luke and Third Brother. 

They started back in that direction, but at that same moment there was a sudden surge in the Force. The Dark Side, rising like a rabid animal, rage and hateful malice, devouring hunger. It shook Ahsoka to her core, but she shed her fear into the Light. The Dark would only turn it against her, if she let it. The temple ahead of them was lighting up with red lines and runes along its flanks reaching up to the cap. Even the nearby ruins had started to glow with that self-same light. Rock groaned, loud enough to echo across the cavern. The massive apex crystal was slowly moving and splitting apart. 

Nothing about this was good. 

“We have to get inside,” Ahsoka said. “As quickly as possible.”

“I didn’t see any way in around the base,” Kanan replied. He pointed upwards. “If nothing else, that’s an opening. The Inquisiors might even be heading there themselves.”

He was right. Ahsoka nodded. “Let’s find a way up.”

\----

The path to the top of the temple was simple enough, but Luke was distracted the whole way by everything going on around him in the Force; the whispers of the holocron, the building and swelling power within the nexus point of the Dark Side, the pain of betrayal that Leia wasn’t bothering to shield from him, and his own suspicion about any more secrets Maul might be keeping. Even once they ascended the final set of stairs and found themselves standing in front of the massive and intricate crystal construction that capped the temple he couldn’t give it his full attention. 

It wasn’t one simple, single piece the way it had looked from afar. Instead it was multiple interlocking, overlapping plates. At the moment they’d lifted up and revealed some kind of grand hall, mostly open on its four sides. The floor was dark metal lit up from within by geometric lines in red and gold as though it was a massive circuit board. In the very centre of it all was a matt grey monolith floating about a foot off the ground. Or rather, Luke saw, not one monolith but two mirrored halves. 

The holocron pulsed in his hands, calling him to move forward. It wanted him to go towards that thing. 

“Am I going to regret doing this?” he asked Maul. 

“I doubt it,” the former Sith replied. 

Luke sighed. He lifted the holocron with the Force and started to move it towards the gap between the two floating pillars. 

“Don’t do this Luke,” Leia said. “Don’t trust him.”

“This isn’t about trust Leia,” Luke replied, although part of him really did want to be able to trust Maul fully. It might be too early for that though. For now, he just had to rely on their shared goals, their shared enemy. “We both want the same things.”

“Indeed,” Maul agreed. He was smiling, looking towards the monolith with greedy eyes. 

The holocron slotted into place, the Dark Side reaching out from the temple itself and taking it from Luke’s grasp. It began to glow slightly and then activated, splitting apart in the same way as the other one he had opened all those months ago. Blue-purple energy shot up from a small gap in the floor directly beneath and crackled out to the sheer walls cupping the holocron between them. Power throbbed all around them like a vast heartbeat. 

The holocron projected no person this time, but a voice echoed out of it all the same. 

“Who comes forth?” it demanded, imperious. 

“My name is Luke,” he told it. “Who are you?”

“I am Darth Presence. By what right have you come to this place of power, Luke of no other name? Do you claim yourself as Sith?”

“I would,” Luke replied. Honesty seemed the best policy here. “My Master is Darh Vader, and his Master is Darth Sidious, of the Line of Bane.” That last bit was what Maul had told him and he had no idea if it would mean anything to this holocron, but this planet, this temple, seemed to be from the time where there were many lineages. Including that detail seemed relevant. 

“Then where are your Masters, young apprentice?” the holocron asked. “Why are they not with you now?”

Maul hissed with poorly suppressed anger. “You assume the boy is not _my_ apprentice,” he said. 

“There is no bond between you,” Darth Presence replied. “Though you too are a child of the Dark Side, zabrak.” 

“Maul,” he snarled. “My name is Maul, and I - _we_ \- have every right to command you.”

“To what end?” the holocron asked, sounding amused. 

“For revenge,” Maul replied. 

“To destroy our enemies,” Luke added. “To kill the Sith Emperor and take his place.” That bit was a gamble. For all he knew one of the old Sith Emperors had built this place and the holocron might still be loyal to that title if not any specific individual. He didn’t think so though. 

Laughter rang out from the holocron. “Ambition indeed,” she said. The light inside and around it started to strengthen, and then a wave of energy washed out and over them in rolling thunder. A crackling line of power rippled up into the sky far above. A faint tremor ran through the metal underfoot. “So it shall be. The power of this battlestation shall be at your command.” 

“No!” 

Luke turned at the cry. Two figures had just crested the stairs leading to the top of the temple, running towards them with lightsabers ignited. Kanan Jarrus and Ahsoka Tano. They brought the Light with them, lancing into the heart of the Dark. The temple bristled in response, attention turning onto the Jedi. The holocron’s disapproval was broadcast plainly. 

“Lady Tano,” Maul called out, flicking his saber on with a twirl of twin blades. A fierce, predatory joy burst out of him, and there was genuine pleasure in the baring of his teeth. “Once again you arrive too late. The power of this place is mine, and I _will_ have my revenge!” 

“Maul? How…” Ahsoka shook her head, instantly dismissing her surprise and recognition. She and Kanan skidded to a stop not far away. “Let them go Maul! I don’t know what you’re doing here, but…”

“I think not,” Maul replied. “I am so very close to my goals now, with the help of my new _friends_. You will not stop me.” Before she or Kanan could say anything more he leapt towards them in a whirl of crimson and aggression, each attack a blur of Dark-enhanced speed. Ahsoka might not have been willing to make the first move but she was ready for him all the same, meeting his blows with the flickering white of her own twin sabers. She nodded to Kanan, who split off and circled towards Luke, Cal and their prisoners. 

“Kanan!” Ezra cried out. “Be careful.”

There was an almost murderous edge in the Jedi’s eyes that didn’t feel entirely appropriate for a servant of the Light. Luke ignited his lightsaber, certain that there was no point in diplomacy. Things had come too far for that now. The Force was already whipped up into a frenzy by whatever was going on deep inside the temple and the burning Light these Jedi brought with them confused things even more. The only thing that _was_ clear was the shape of the immediate future, sure and unchangeable now with the promise of violence. 

Next to him, Cal ignited his blade and nodded to Beedee, who scurried over to Ezra and Leia to act as their guard as best he could. They were both restrained, so Luke was reasonably confident they needn’t worry about escape attempts. Ahsoka and Kanan were more than enough to be getting on with. 

Kanan struck hard and fast, his technique nothing fancy but confident and accomplished all the same. Luke met his blows in kind and let the Dark Side wash over him with the easy simplicity of the fight and the hunt. He had to exist in the moment, focused on one single simple goal of victory. Thinking about the consequences of killing this Jedi, or of the outcome of the _other_ fight going on mere meters away and causing a vicious storm in the Force, those were distractions that he couldn’t afford. 

It was so much easier not to have to _think_. 

He and Cal flanked Kanan, trading blows. This was the hunting pack again, as it had been fighting Leia earlier. They were in sync with each other, flowing in and out as they traded off, allowing one to rest while the other put on the pressure. They would wear the Jedi down and then… then victory would take whatever shape fate or the Force willed it. 

Kanan was struggling under the weight of their combined strength and ferocity. His blue blade whirled between them, caught on the defensive and unable to make up any ground. Although the fight took them ranging over the plaza it was the Inquisitors chasing and the Jedi retreating before them. This was really the man who’d defeated the Grand Inquisitor? Unless Luke had improved his own combat skills a lot more than he’d thought, it didn’t make sense.

Kanan seemed to know it too. In the Force increasing desperation was pouring off of him. On another of their whirling laps his eyes caught those of his padawan and it hardened something inside of him. Luke felt it crystallise as an almost Dark level of determination - and then it became Dark in truth as Kanan let go of the Light and reached for a strain of the Force that was very familiar. 

Love. Protection. Family. Sacrifice. It swept over Luke as Kanan grabbed for it whole-heartedly and left his head spinning as for a moment he could only see the Jedi as part of the pack rather than as an enemy. 

That was enough for Kanan to push him back and gather himself for the fight again. He was no longer just a Jedi trying to defeat their ancient enemy, but a parent defending their child - and that was far more formidable. Anger sparked in Kanan’s eyes as he leapt to attack, pushing them back in a sudden whirlwind of aggression to meet their own. He was controlling it as well, not letting it make him forget about technique or strategy. Luke snarled, impressed despite himself. 

It wasn’t just Ezra who would make a good Inquisitor. Kanan would too. 

If only this same new-found strength wasn’t making him a much more difficult opponent! Luke and Cal could no longer press their advantage - each swipe and strike was met and returned, the outcome now feeling much less certain. Luke wondered if Kanan knew what he was doing, and how long he would be able to keep it up without reaching the point where he either let go of the Dark or accepted it wholeheartedly. Either could be good for them, but only if they were still in the fight to see it. 

Their movement back and forth around the central monolith happened to take them circling close to the equally intense battle playing out between Maul and Ahsoka. Maul caught Luke’s eye and hissed at him. 

“Swap!”

“What?” Luke replied, breathless. “Why?”

“Just do it!” 

Maul must know what he was doing - and he wouldn’t be asking if he didn’t believe Luke could hold out against Ahsoka for long enough. For a second they were back to back, and then Luke turned and locked his blade with Ahsoka’s pure white one. 

Her eyes widened in surprise and something pained, but there was no time for analysis. She only hesitated for the briefest second, adjusted to the change of opponent and style, and resumed the fight. 

Ahsoka didn’t fight much like Kanan, some of which was the two blades, but that wasn’t all of it. She was more assured, more calculating. Even when she was pressing the attack she wasn’t aggressive in the sense that Luke was used to. He saw some of Leia’s style in her, though they weren't entirely similar. That must be Kenobi’s influence. 

Ahsoka burned as a beacon in the Light, calm and intent in a very different way to the Dark’s hungry determination. She wasn’t relying on her own will to lead her towards victory, but almost… poised in the moment, floating on the current of reality, waiting for opportunities to come her way. 

Luke ducked below one of Ahsoka’s blades and blocked the other, feeling his muscles burn at the edge of being over-extended. He was quick but she was quicker. Yes, she was powerful in the Light, but the Dark Side was stronger when it came to combat - it was only that Luke’s sheer power wasn’t enough to win out over her long experience. He was starting to feel slightly desperate. Where was Maul? He’d assumed the idea was for them to only switch opponents briefly, but he couldn’t spare even a momentary fragment of attention to look for him. 

Ahsoka wove a glowing cage of light around him, both with her blades and in the Force. Luke didn’t know if this was some specific Jedi technique or something she was doing instinctively, but it made it hard to think, hard to lean on the strength of the Dark. That strength was the only thing still keeping him in the fight. He didn’t have her skill and he _needed_ the speed and the ghosts of the future the Force whispered to keep up. He was pure reaction and burning will, riding the Dark and trusting that it knew where to take him, but the Light was throwing blockages in his path, seeping away power and knowledge. 

Determination bled ever so slightly into desperation. 

That alteration of his will was enough. Ahsoka’s off-hand saber caught the guard of his lightsaber and Luke let go before he lost that hand _again_. The hilt skidded away over the floor with the guard cut neatly in two, and Ahsoka brought her blade to rest inches from his throat. 

There was a moment of perfect stillness. The Light crashed down around them and tore the air out of Luke’s lungs, an enforced and terrible peace. Ahsoka’s gaze was blank and merciless. 

Then she blinked, and Luke saw that there was something warring inside her still. Some depth of emotion that he couldn’t sense through the Force and didn’t know her well enough to read from her face. She didn't kill him. This would have been the moment, and… she hesitated. 

“No!” Kanan cried out behind them. “No, don’t!” Ahsoka and Luke both turned to look, though the white saber didn’t move. 

Maul held a struggling Ezra by the hair in a painful grasp, the unlit side of his saberstaff pressed into the side of his head near where the skull met the spine. “He means little to _me_ ,” Maul said. “You care for him deeply, _desperately_ , don’t you Jedi? You care enough to pay whatever price.” 

He was right. Luke had sensed it for himself. Kanan had been walking the edge of a vibroknife this whole fight, drawing on the protective side of the Dark without apparently realising exactly what he was doing. It was still around him now, desperate and furious with the instincts of protection. Luke didn’t actually understand what Falling entailed - he’d been raised in the Dark and had never experienced that moment Cal and others spoke of - but if Kanan wasn't there already he was very close. 

“Ezra…” Kanan said, locking eyes with his apprentice, raw fear and love written in his expression for anyone to see. 

“Maul!” Ahsoka called. There was an edge of anger in her voice but it was tightly controlled, and Luke didn’t feel her Force presence even flicker from it. “You aren’t the only one here with something to lose.”

Maul dragged Ezra with him as he turned, just enough to be able to see both Jedi at once. His lips curled in a snarl of rage that was at least a little directed at Luke himself. Luke winced. Yes, this was his own failure, but everyone _did_ keep on saying how good a duellist Ahsoka Tano was. Maul knew that, and it had been _his_ idea to switch opponents - and for _this_ , when he knew Luke wanted their prisoners alive?

Well, he also wanted to stay alive himself even more, and Maul hadn’t gone for _Leia_.

Then something in Maul’s expression changed, a flicker of rage, of hate, but also just a little relief. He was looking behind them, towards the edge of the pyramid where the storm-clouds of the Force were still whirling with gradually rising energy, potentiality waiting to be unleashed. As Luke turned his own attention that way, the clouds parted as a lance of black, murderous energy crashed through them, the roar of inferno flames, the devouring awful heart of a black hole. 

Ahsoka pushed Luke away and spun around, her blades coming up to meet the mountain falling upon her. 

Darth Vader’s crimson saber locked, spitting plasma, in the cross of her blades. 

“Ahsoka Tano,” he said, every word a threat. “We meet again.”


	38. Chapter 38

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The dance of Light and Dark, Master and Padawan, continues.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I continue to be very thankful for all your wonderful comments and kudos everyone!

**3 BBY - Malachor, Malachor system, Chorlian Sector, Outer Rim Territories**

Chopper really didn’t trust those squishy organics to get themselves out of their latest trouble without his help. Particularly not since the whole building in the centre of this place had opened up, started glowing, and was making concerning thrumming noises. Instead of doing something sensible like leaving, they’d gone running straight at it and now they weren’t answering his comm pings. 

It looked like he was going to have to save the day again. 

Chopper trundled up the ramp of the Imperial shuttle and found a dataport where he could interface with its systems. There was some encryption, but nothing he couldn’t slice through in a matter of minutes. Once inside, he ran through pre-flight checks and fired up the repulsors. He might not be familiar with piloting this kind of shuttle but he was adaptable and a fast learner. 

His reckless fragging friends had better appreciate this. 

\----

None of this was going as she had expected. Malachor was supposed to give them a way to defeat the Sith, not lead them right into their hands! Ahsoka had put her feelings of foreboding down to what she knew about the planet’s history but now she was cursing herself for not listening to her own instincts. First Leia had gone off on her own and then called out in the Force for help, but that could have been down to some ancient Sith trap that she’d accidentally activated. Bad, but something they could handle. Then Ezra had been separated from them, forcing them to choose between continuing the search or staying to help him find a way up from the lower level. Again, putting that down to active malice rather than the simple fact that this place was ancient and unstable had felt… paranoid. Yes, the other ship had been a bad sign but there had been no evidence of Darksiders in the Force. 

Ahsoka ought to have known better. If there was one thing Sith were good at, it was knowing how to hide. 

Now her heart sank as they reached the top of the temple. Whatever was going on here was drowning the Force in the Dark Side, horrible nauseating waves of power rippling out from something vast and terrible that sent all of her senses screaming. Ahsoka did her best to focus on the Light, to remain calm and not let her fear master her. 

There were so many things to be afraid of. It felt like she had been shedding terror over and over like a snake shedding its skin since the Clone War. 

The first thing she saw was the pillar, crackling with lightning. The next was the Inquisitors, both horribly familiar, with Leia and Ezra taken prisoner and shoved to the ground in front of them, and a zabrak standing at their side. A crown of horns, red skin tattooed with black, golden eyes rimmed in red turning to look her way with a smile that still appeared in her nightmares even after fifteen years… 

Maul. Maul was here. Alive and well and - she had to assume - plotting something awful for his own ends. 

“Lady Tano!” He said, calling to her, igniting his saberstaff and settling it into his hand with a twirl. In the Force he was shadows and ash, a memory of balancing above a precipice that they’d both fallen into in the end. The knife point of choice, of desperation, of breathless weightlessness before Order 66 came crashing down on the galaxy and the world as she knew it was revealed to be nothing more than a lie. 

“Once again you arrive too late,” Maul said, though Ahsoka was barely listening. “The power of this place is mine, and I _will_ have my revenge!”

His revenge against _who_ , she wondered? Against her, for refusing his offer of allegiance? Against Obi-wan, because he could never let that particular grudge die even for all he’d done to hurt him already? Or against his former Master, Darth Sidious, the Sith sitting at the heart of it all.

Words fell from her lips without thought. “Maul. How…?” Pointless. Even if he wanted to gloat there wasn’t time for it. She stopped running, skidding to a halt in front of the group arrayed around the glowing pillar. Kanan stopped next to her, steady and determined in the Force. She was so glad to have him. To have someone else here carrying the Light within them, to illuminate the darkness that lay so thick and heavy around them all. There was only one thing that mattered right now. “Let them go Maul!” she demanded. “I don’t know what you’re doing here, but…”

“I think not,” Maul replied, with that familiar sneer, that familiar voice too soft for all the hate that raged inside him. “I am so very close to my goals now, with the help of my new _friends_. You will not stop me.” 

Ahsoka expected him to go on talking, because that was the one thing she felt very sure of with him - that he loved the sound of his own voice. Instead he leapt forwards in a sharp surge of aggression, the Dark Side folding around him. His saberstaff was a blur, but she had fought him before and she had still been a teenager then. The last decade and a half she had fought to survive in an unkind galaxy, knowing all the time that anyone who saw her unsheathed sabers could set another Inquisitor set on her trail. 

She’d killed more than one of those hunters. Her skills had only sharpened with time. 

Maul hadn’t gotten soft or lazy with these extra years either. She had no idea how old he was, and with zabraks it was hard to tell, but age hadn’t slowed him down any. It was hard to remember the exact details of their fight on Mandalore - though it featured often in memories and nightmares, it was a blur of doing her best to survive while the Dark Side buffeted and clawed at her, not an exact replay of every move. She couldn’t be _sure_ how this compared but… 

She didn’t feel so afraid this time. 

Perhaps that was just because after fighting Darth Vader in the halls of a Star Destroyer above Mustafar, it was hard for anything else to match it. Perhaps she was just used to fear. Or perhaps she was more centred in the Light now after so many trials of her faith in it and in herself and in her cause. 

Ahsoka was focused on her own battle, not on anything else going on around her. Even so, she sensed it when the world got just a little bit Darker, and the Light lessened. She couldn’t think about what that might mean for Kanan or Ezra or Leia, not if she wanted to go on, not if there was any hope of her winning. She was holding her own against Maul and she thought it likely she would win again as she had before, but only if she remained focused. Any inattention, any doubt or grief, could be fatal. 

Maul looked away, said something that disappeared in the scream of their sabers clashing, and then whirled away from her. In his place slid the boy who had once been Luke Skywalker and was now… what? A symbol of failure, both her’s and Obi-wan’s? An Inquisitor, a Sith, a deadly enemy - this at least proved he _could not_ _be_ the potential ally that Leia had wished he was. 

She saw his father in his face. She saw Padme there too, and she didn’t know which was more painful. 

She put those thoughts from her mind, gave them to the Force. She had to remain floating in the moment, a leaf on the breeze driven before the wind, rather than the stubborn tree which could not flex and was uprooted. She moved around and upon the churning, ferocious currents of the Dark Side and waited for the opening to come. 

It did. The boy, the Sith, hesitated. She struck. 

The hilt of his lightsaber tumbled from his grasp. Her own blade levelled over his throat. Sith-yellow eyes met hers with defiance and desperation. 

The Dark Side raged around them, but here in this moment there was peace and the Light. Without passion, Ahoksa considered him and knew that she ought to kill him. He might be strange for a Sith, but he still was one. He wanted the galaxy to kneel before his throne the same as any other of their kind. He was a threat, and yet…

He was still Anakin’s son. Still Leia’s brother. 

She couldn’t do it. 

A shout caught her attention. Ahsoka looked away to see that Maul had Ezra by the hair, threatening Kanan with the promise of his death. Brief panic pulsed through her before she caught herself. 

“Maul!” she shouted. He was here working with Luke which meant he needed him for whatever plan he had cooked up. Which meant she had leverage too. “You aren’t the only one with something to lose!”

Maul turned to glare at her, but then he saw something behind her and his expression changed. Given that clue Ahsoka didn’t need the sudden scream of the Force in order to react - she pushed Luke away from her and whirled with her blades raised, and met Darth Vader’s descending strike with her muscles straining against the weight and power of the blow. 

For a moment the Light felt as though it had snuffed out around her. She was alone in the middle of winter, in a moonless, starless night. Her breath caught in her throat. All she could see was black; black cloak, black armour, black shadows of the Dark Side smothering and suffocating…

“Ahsoka Tano,” said the monster in her old master’s skin. “We meet again.”

She hadn’t thought that things could get worse. That had been foolish of her. 

“You would be wise to surrender,” Vader told her. “You are outmatched and outnumbered. Your padawan and her friend are prisoners, and Jarrus is joining them. You alone still fight.”

He wasn’t pressing the attack. He even let her break away from the blade-lock and take several large steps away from him. It was the only reason Ahsoka felt able to risk looking over her shoulder at the scene behind her. Maul still held Ezra at the mercy of his blade, and now that she’d been distracted, Luke had put plenty of distance between them, going over to join the Third Brother. Kanan was holding his hands out in front of him to be cuffed with an expression of helpless fury. 

Nobody was dead. That was both a relief and a cause of sudden confusion. She’d _felt_ things change in the Force, felt the Light lessen…

Vader stood there, silent, his lightsaber hanging down by his side. For a moment she thought he seemed distracted, wondering if this could be her opportunity - but then his attention snapped back to her with all the focus of a targeting computer. 

“Why do you try so hard, Snips?” the Sith asked, in a mockery of the nickname Anakin had given her. “Your cause is lost - yet I am not without mercy. Join me, join the power of the Dark Side - my Master would have a place for an Inquisitor with your skills.”

So long as he wasn’t actively trying to kill her, she took the opportunity to gather her strength again, to breathe the acid out of muscles that had started to ache from the fight. Still she watched him carefully, knowing this reprieve was only temporary. He was right that the situation seemed impossible, that they had lost - but there was a chance she could still make this a costly victory for the Sith. She didn’t know if she could defeat Vader. She doubted it. 

But if there was nothing else, she had to try. Better that, than becoming yet another weapon of the Sith. 

“I thought the plan was to kill the Emperor,” she said, then realised that maybe this was an ambition that Luke hadn’t shared. If she could sow discord between them... “Or is that only your Apprentice’s plan?”

Vader’s head cocked slightly. “Fifteenth Brother has spoken of this?” It was hard to tell through the effects of the vocoder, but Ahsoka thought she detected an edge of suspicion. “When?”

Ahsoka gave him a smirk. “Oh, was that supposed to be a secret? I wouldn’t know - it seems to be a big part of his recruitment pitch.”

A pause. Then Vader said, “All the more reason for you to join us.”

“So you _are_ on board with this? Killing your Master?”

“It is the way of the Sith.”

“Luke seems to think he’s going to be the one giving the orders once Sidious is dead.”

“Luke…?” Confusion was replaced by a murderous edge in the Dark. Ahsoka’s skin rippled as the temperature dropped precipitously. “He is the Fifteenth Brother. He has no _name_.”

Not the reason she’d been expecting him to give for his anger, but she would take it. Again she wondered, did he _know_? It seemed utterly impossible that he could be unaware of the fact that Luke was his son, and maybe this rejection of his name was just proof that their familial relationship meant nothing to him. The irony of his ignorance would simply be too much for reality to withstand. 

“Perhaps he’s less loyal to you than you thought,” she said. “He’s working here with Maul, after all.”

Another long pause, almost as if Vader was having a conversation without her. Then he said, “We will indeed be having _words_ about that later. Still do not hope to distract me Ahsoka. I will have your answer. Join me, or perish.”

“No. Never.”

Vader brought his blade up in a salute. “So be it.” 

Ahsoka gave herself over to the Light once again. She needed that peace, that clear-headed calculation, if she stood any chance of even injuring him. This was going to be the hardest fight of her life. 

Vader made the first move, as any Sith should. His style wasn’t Anakin’s, not anymore, but she didn’t let that distract her the way it had over Mustafar. He was deliberate, powerful beyond reason, every blow a hammer-strike that she couldn’t meet head on. She had to dodge or deflect, sending the deadly crimson of his saber skidding aside. He should have been slow - there was a ponderous weight to his every movement that meant his actual speed came as surprise every time. There were no flourishes, no wasted energy at all. Only an overpowering sense of inevitable doom coming towards her. 

Ahsoka had half expected Maul or Luke or the other Inquisitor to jump in on the Sith’s side, but perhaps Vader had already given them instructions that he wanted to do this alone. Something about this felt like fate. A Master and an Apprentice. Duelling for their lives, for the sake of the Light against the Dark. 

Ahsoka managed to stay ahead of the promise of her death, but only just and only by giving ground. All of her focus was on Vader, which was why it took her so off guard when the floor shuddered under her and then jumped what had to be at least a foot in the air. She went sprawling over the slick, polished metal, turning it into a roll to open up space between her and what she felt sure would be a lightsaber coming for her head. When she managed to get her feet under her, she saw Vader had been knocked down too, bracing himself with one hand and a knee while still keeping his blade pointed in her direction. 

The Force was howling. Lightning was crackling everywhere she looked along the massive panes of crystal overhead. With a rumble, the roof started to move. It was descending, dropping - it would lock them into the top of the pyramid with no means of escape. 

At least Vader was distracted by it too. This wasn’t his doing. 

The shrinking view outside was… not right. It was _moving_ . The shuddering underneath her hadn’t stopped, just reached a different and more stable vibration. They were… they were going _up_. 

What was this?

\----

Darth Vader had liked nothing about this mission since his Master gave him his orders. Malachor was a dangerous place. Sidious had spoken of it before in passing, as had his history lessons as a padawan in the Jedi Temple. It was the site of a cataclysmic battle between Sith and Jedi many millennia ago, and its temple had guarded the memory and mausoleum of their deaths ever since. 

The vision he and the boy shared gave no clues as to why the Jedi might venture there. Secrets of the Sith were not for weaklings like them. 

While Fifteenth and Third Brother travelled to the planet below, Vader remained on one of the moons, waiting. Had all been as Sidious wished it, they would not even know of his presence here, and would not unless they failed in their task. Things were _not_ as his Master wished. Vader was not here to deal death, but to save his Apprentice’s life, if it came to that. 

He kept tabs on the boy through their training bond as he landed on the surface, picking up echoes of the world experienced through Fifteenth Brother’s senses, black stone and the swelling power of a Dark Side nexus - that must be the temple. He felt it when the boy’s adrenaline spiked, when sudden anger and alarm swept through him. Vader’s hands tightened on the controls of his TIE-Advance. From this distance he could not sense any Jedi, nor had any craft appeared in the system since they had arrived, but it was always possible that the rebels had reached the planet before them. 

_Young one, what is it?_ he demanded, and wished that he was closer. Even if he took off now, it would not be sufficient to reach his apprentice in time. 

Fifteenth Brother did not answer him. He was fighting, his mind focused and intent. There was determination, but not fear. Vader relaxed slightly. The urge to protect the boy was unbecoming of a Sith. His apprentice deserved the chance to prove himself; it would do him no favours to be coddled. The battle was over soon after that, and the transmitted emotions settled into a keen curiosity. Vader sensed that a conversation was happening, although not the contents of it. 

_It’s fine, don’t worry_ , the boy told him, projecting reassurance. _You don’t need to come._

Things did appear to have gone well. Still, it was maddening to be ignorant of events. How much worse this would have been, if he’d had any intent of following his master’s instructions!

Some time later, Vader’s scanner beeped as it picked up a new ship arriving in the system. It was small, no more than a shuttle, and it headed unerringly for Malachor itself. The Jedi. He was sure of it. They were concealing their Force signatures again, but there was no such thing as coincidence when it came to matters of the Force. 

_They have arrived, my Apprentice,_ he sent over their bond. Fifteenth Brother communicated acknowledgement back. 

Once the shuttle was in the atmosphere it dropped off his systems. Once again Vader was forced to wait in deep frustration. It would be unwise to distract Fifteenth Brother by asking questions at some inopportune moment. Given that his first taste of combat could _not_ have been the rebels it did leave the question of who had been lurking in those ancient Sith ruins, but since his Apprentice had come off the victor it could wait. The Jedi came first. 

The irritation of ignorance built up itching under Vader’s skin. It finally came to a head when a great cry in the Light arose from the planet below, strong enough to reach across the vast distance of space itself. Something about it was… familiar. It was not Ahsoka, yet… 

_What was that?_ he demanded, unable to hold his questions back in the face of his concern. 

_Not now!_ Fifteenth Brother sent back, his mind a whirl of concentration and the sharp edges of violence. _I’m busy!_

Busy fighting Jedi, apparently. _You are duelling again. Tano?_ His Apprentice still wasn’t ready to face her, although at least he was not alone. _Take care my Apprentice, for she is…_

 _Then stop distracting me!_ the boy replied. If he was any other Inquisitor, Vader would have punished him harshly for such impertinence, but in this case the anger did not come. However the worry did, a deep flood of certainty that his Apprentice was in more trouble than he thought. 

Vader reached for the controls and lifted his fighter aloft. He would not interfere, not yet, but he needed to be closer. There was no point in promising he would be here for the boy if he was too far away to reach him when danger came. He sent the TIE screaming at top speed towards the surface of Malachor, following the unmistakable thread of the training bond. The ship’s shields glowed as they took the heat of re-entry and the drag of atmosphere against them. 

Before long he was diving towards a mountainous landscape and the neat shape of a caldera. His Apprentice was nearby, although the only apparent sign of life was the rebel’s shuttle parked on the flat stone plain. Vader looped around and brought his ship in to land on a crag at the crater’s rim. From here he should be able to respond swiftly to any sign of genuine danger. 

The Force whispered that such danger was coming. The Dark Side nexus below the temple was calling, shifting as it awakened from its long hibernation. He sensed it beneath the stone covering everything save those eight massive pillars that were the only constructed things for miles. The temple was concealed, but there must be a way down that the Inquisitors and the Jedi had both found. Therefore Vader was ready to move in the same moment he felt the Dark Side surge into life, the moment a bright beam of energy lanced upwards through an opening in the near-featureless rock. 

He sensed his presence would be necessary. This was not the task his Apprentice had been sent here to complete - if some mystery of the Sith had been awakened, was that not _Vader’s_ responsibility, rather than the boy's? 

There was space enough around where the energy erupted for him to bring the TIE-Advance down, setting it on one of the flat steps of the pyramid that formed the temple. He had not been to Malachor before, but this was not the first Sith temple he had seen. He popped the top of the cockpit open and leapt out with the aid of the Force, striding up the stairs that led to the wide plaza at the top of the pyramid. His quarry would be there. 

As the hall beneath the crystal capping the temple came into view, Vader saw the flash of lightsabers. He’d come expecting a fight, feeling it once again along the bond he shared with Fifteenth Brother. The boy was fighting Tano, _alone_ as he had been expressly instructed not to do! 

Vader paid little mind to the other duel going on, the figures small at this distance and flashing in and out of sight behind crackling lightning and the monolith at the centre of this all. He only cared for the safety of his Apprentice. Even as he watched, the boy’s saber was dashed from his hand. 

_No._ He would not allow this! 

Vader’s saber was in his hand and ignited with barely a thought, a raw surge of rage pulling the Dark out of its raging storm-clouds and focusing it in on him, the Dark’s true master. It bore him on its winds as he charged across the wide expanse of stone towards his former padawan who _dared_ to threaten Fifteenth Brother’s life. She turned, warned by his fury, and met his strike on her crossed blades. The boy scrambled backwards out of range. 

“Ahsoka Tano,” he growled, as his anger tore the Light from around her. “We meet again.”

She trembled, and her breathless fear fed some deep satisfaction even as some other part of him drew back from her. It was hesitation, it was weakness, and he grasped it and cast it from him with an inner snarl. She meant _nothing_ . She had spurned him too many times; when she abandoned him to the Order and the horrors of the war, when she refused his offer to come back just before the end, when she refused him _again_ over Mustafar. She had made it _more_ than clear that she cared nothing for him, hated him, and would never see herself as his apprentice again.

He had a _new_ apprentice now. One who understood the true power of the Dark Side. One who was not _weak_. 

Alien concern flickered through his mind. It came from the training bond. Beneath the lenses of his helmet, Vader’s eyes went to Fifteenth Brother and heard him say, _Don’t kill her. Please? If there’s any other way?_

She had been inches from beheading him and still the boy pled for mercy? At first Vader could not understand it, but… perhaps Fifteenth Brother believed the Emperor would be more impressed with a Jedi turned to the Dark than a Jedi killed. False. The Emperor was not impressed by anything. 

Very well. He would offer mercy one last time. He would give her this final chance. “You would be wise to surrender,” Vader said. He pulled his saber back, let her retreat by a few steps. It gave him the opportunity to view the state of play as well. The other Jedi was motionless, his face a mask of pain - but not for himself. Vader followed the line of his gaze and saw… 

Impossible. Darth Maul was dead. Captured by Ahsoka, then burned to ash in her ship when… 

But _she_ had survived that. Why not a Sith? 

His Master had said nothing of this to him. Was it possible that he did not know? That seemed unlikely. Of course Sidious had many secrets - attempting to puzzle out why he’d kept this one, or why Maul was now here of all places would have to come later. 

“You are outmatched and outnumbered,” he told Ahsoka. “Your padawan and her friend are prisoners, and Jarrus is joining them. You alone still fight.”

She looked over her shoulder and saw that he had not lied. It shook her, briefly, but she was stubborn. 

“Why do you try so hard, Snips?” he asked. Perhaps she would respond to her old nickname. “Your cause is lost - yet I am not without mercy. Join me, join the power of the Dark Side - my Master would have a place for an Inquisitor with your skills.” 

Ahsoka kept her sabers out at guard, ignited. She was not truly considering his offer. “I thought the plan was to kill the Emperor,” she said, surprising him with her knowledge. “Or is that only your Apprentice’s plan?”

How had she found out? There was only one obvious source, and Vader could not see why the boy would share such a vitral secret with the rebels, with Jarrus and Bridger or Tano’s padawan - he hadn’t encountered Ahsoka for long enough to have told her directly. “Fifteenth Brother has spoken of this? When?”

“Oh, was that supposed to be a secret? I wouldn’t know - it seems to be a big part of his recruitment pitch.”

 _Apprentice!_ Vader said, _Is this true?_

 _Yes_ , the boy replied, without hesitation. _I hoped it would let them trust me more, if they thought I wanted the same thing that they did. Besides, how would that get back to Darth Sidious? They’re insurgents!_

There would be time to scold the child for his impetuous actions later. Since he seemed to think it might work... “All the more reason for you to join us,” Vader told Ahsoka. 

“So you are on board with this? Killing your Master?”

“It is the way of the Sith.” She should know this already. 

“Luke seems to think he’s going to be the one giving the orders once Sidious is dead.”

“Luke…?” For a moment Vader did not understand who she was talking about. Realisation came swiftly however, and his eyes narrowed. Luke? Unless she had decided for some unfathomable reason to give the boy a name herself there was only one place - one person - that could have come from. “He is the Fifteenth Brother. He does not have a _name_.” Had he come up with that himself? Or did he actually remember it from the time before he was brought to Area Null? Either way such notions should have been purged from him by his training. 

This would not be the first time Fifteenth Brother had come close to heresy. It ought to have spoken of weakness, yet of all things the boy was not _weak_. 

“Perhaps he’s less loyal to you than you thought,” Ahsoka said, still smiling in a way designed to taunt him. “He’s working here with Maul, after all.”

Yes. Maul. 

_Do you have anything to say for yourself, Apprentice?_ he asked. 

_About… which part?_ The answer was tentative, half-apologetic. Vader liked that even less. He knew the boy had a spine, he should use it! 

_Either_ , he replied. 

_The name… I never gave it up. I refused to._ There was a core of durasteel in the emotion lurking behind those words. _Maul… it’s not like I really know who he is, but apparently he knows Ahsoka Tano? He said they fought before. He wants Sidious dead as much as we do, so I thought he could be an ally._

Maul… likely _did_ want his old Master dead, yes. That did _not_ mean he could be trusted, and certainly did not mean he should be treated like an ally. He was a Sith, and there could only be two. Unless Fifteenth Brother - Luke, how strange that name sounded in his mind _\- did_ intend to betray him, which felt unlikely, he must know that Vader and Maul could not allow each other to live. 

“We will indeed be having _words_ about that later,” he said, meaning it for the boy as well as Ahsoka. “Still do not hope to distract me Ahsoka. I will have your answer. Join me, or perish.”

Her determination, her choice, rang loud in the Force. “No. Never.”

He would give her the dignity of a good death then. The ghost of something near sorrow ached briefly in his chest but Vader brushed it aside. No. Such sentimentality was unworthy of him. He gave his former padawan a salute with his blade and told her, “So be it.”

He and Ahsoka had fought so many times before in the course of training, but that did not compare to a genuine duel. Even their clash on board Tarkin’s Star Destroyer months ago had been a very different thing to this, for Vader had been primarily focused on Kenobi at the time. Now all of his attention was on Ahsoka, his rage aimed towards the goal of her death. He could not deny that she was skilled. Many Jedi and many powerful warriors both Force-sensitive and not had fallen beneath his blade over the years, most perishing within a few scant moments. Ashoka was more of a challenge than that. 

Even so, Vader did not truly have any doubts about the outcome. He was a Lord of the Sith, and the Dark was an infinitely more powerful weapon than the Light. Ahsoka could flee him, put off the inevitable for a time, but she could not do so forever. 

It was not Ahsoka’s skill that stopped their duel, but something outside of both of them. The Dark howled like a raging sandstorm, triumph and power, the blare of a horn calling an army to war. It came not from Vader or as a result of his actions but from the temple under his feet. The floor shifted under him with sudden violence, knocking him to the ground. Ahsoka too went flying, rolling to open up distance between them. 

Bright lightning was corcuscting throught the air in all directions. The whole temple was shifting and reconfiguring as it… lifted itself aloft. 

What had Darth Sidious failed to tell him about this place? What was the temple really? 

Vader looked towards the monolith floating at the centre of the room, the apparent source of the energy. The three Jedi prisoners were still present and accounted for, staring around them in fear. They were no more than embers in the Light, crushed beneath the weight of the Dark. Third and Fifteenth Brother had barely managed to keep their feet under them. He felt only confusion from them as well. 

Maul was not confused. He stared into the light with some manner of rapture, his head tilted back so the lightning's illumination could play over his features. 

He knew what this was. This was part of _his_ plan. 

Vader did not trust it. 

The Dark was whirling, raging, dancing on the edge of control and chaos. Vader did not need to understand the cause of this to know that if that control was lost the consequences would be severe and extreme. He pushed himself to his feet and strode quickly across the plaza towards Maul. 

Ahsoka could wait. If she insisted on attacking him again he would defeat her, but if she was wise she would take the chance to escape - if such a thing remained possible. 

“What is this?” he demanded, drawing level with the zabrak. “What have you done?”

“ _I_ have done very little,” Maul said, his eyes bright with a fanatical gleam. “You have your apprentice to thank for awakening this battlestation after so many millenia.”

Even with the benefit of his helmet filters it was difficult to look directly into the column of light rushing between the two halves of the pillar, but Vader could just make out something there. From its shape, a holocron. The Dark pulsed, heavy and heady. It was distracting. He could understand Maul’s mania. It threatened to overwhelm him also. 

Remembering the star-cluster, Vader’s head snapped round to assess the effect on Fifteenth Brother. Sensing his concern through the bond but perhaps not the reason behind it, the boy said, “I _did_ help him, but Maul really does want Darth Sidious dead! I might not know much about how any of this works, but Maul believes it’ll help us against the Emperor and I believe him about that.”

This was not the time for an in-depth discussion about his apprentice’s foolishness in trusting _Darth Maul_ of all people. Around them the walls were sliding down, locking them off. There was a vast crunch, a worrying tremor that shook the entire temple yet again, and then the quality of the light from outside changed. Vader realised they had broken through the crust covering the necropolis. The temple - the starship, the _battlestation_ \- continued to ascend. 

“How is it controlled?” he demanded of Maul, who appeared to be the most knowledgeable about all of this. 

“The holocron,” the zabrak replied, gesturing. 

Very well. This ship required a Captain, it required direction and control. Vader would apply those things. He reached out, physically and with the Force. Next to him Maul snarled and did the same, unwilling to relinquish his prize. For a moment they tussled in the Force, fire and shadow and smoke, surrounding the holocron with their warring energies. 

The holocron reached back. Vader was used to holocrons that projected images and eidolons of their creators, that spoke with simple words. Perhaps at other times this one did as well, but now it merely shouted emotion directly into their minds. Vader saw flashes of the temple’s systems; engines, weapons control, hyperdrive, scanners, diagnostics, moving almost too fast to understand. The Dark Side was enmeshed in it all - this place was not constructed with things so simple as durasteel, circuitry and hypermatter. It could only be understood through the matrix of the Force itself. 

It was also highly unstable. 

The holocron was doing what it could, but it was mere crystal and kyber. It called out for help to calm the raging tide of the Dark, to impose will and intention, to leash chaos. It did not care which of them did so, but Vader understood with the blinding flash of epiphany that if they did nothing the temple would tear itself apart before long. 

Coordinates were flickering through the hyperdrive already, fast as thought but random and meaningless. A jump could not be prevented and Vader did not even know if he could guide it, but it would be far worse if the battlestation attempted to reach multiple destinations simultaneously. 

_You will obey me_ , he roared into the Force, focusing on the energies of the temple as once - so very long ago - he had made the Light and Dark upon Mortis bow to his will. 

Snarling, eternally fierce, Darth Maul’s presence slid against his own. _No! You will obey_ **_me_ ** **.**

 _Fool!_ Vader snapped at him. _You will doom us all! The temple is mine!_

 _Never! This is_ **_my_ ** _revenge!_

Death, destiny and destruction loomed. They were the hub upon which the whole of the temple turned. If they were not together, if they fought, they would tear everything apart. 

_Guide it with me_ , Vader said, hating every word. _We must do this…_

There was no space for deceit here; he felt all of Maul’s disgust and hate, but also his frustrated acceptance of this as the truth. It would have been better, Vader realised, to have done this with Fifteenth Brother, his Apprentice. It was too late for that now. They had already enmeshed themselves with the temple and there was no space for another. 

In the world outside of the Force there was noise, metal scraping against metal and stone in an unholy screech, but it did not disturb the Dark so they did not care. The temple’s engines were groaning through the strain of atmosphere, the Force gathering inside like a vast beast waiting to pounce across the distance between stars. 

With a final lurch, the battlestation flashed into hyperspace. The Dark roared and shook, rushing through Vader’s body, sinking its claws in deep and tearing at his mind, at his very soul. He grunted, holding steady against the torrent. Maul was doing the same with all the stubbornness that had not let him die. 

The holocron flashed, and then a wave of energy exploded outwards from the pillar. Vader landed hard on his back, lost some of his hold on the Force - it lashed free, wild and feral and - he was not sure when, but at some point the world faded away as unconsciousness took him. 

\----

Far lightyears distant, Darth Sidous felt the length of a chain binding him to his Apprentice snap.


	39. The Revelation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Vader finally learns the truth, and Kanan realises he has made a big mistake.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been looking forwards to you all getting to this chapter! Thank you to everyone who has continued to leave kudos and comments as this fic goes along.

**3 BBY - Sith Battlestation, location unknown**

Luke groaned. His whole body hurt, his muscles aching in a way they hadn’t since he was a kid in Area Null, being put through his paces in rigorous and unrelenting training. He wasn’t sure what had knocked him unconscious. The last thing he remembered was the temple… moving. It really was some kind of battlestation as Maul had hinted. It had shaken itself free of the city around it, burst through the roof of the crater and headed for the stars. Yet it had been out of control, the Dark Side churning and chaotic and ready to tear everything apart. Maul and Vader had done something to stop it and that was the last thing he remembered. 

Or… there was one other thing, an image that flashed into his mind as he thought back. 

Just before the sloping crystal walls had finally closed an Imperial shuttle had come careening in through that narrow gap, throwing off a shower of sparks before coming to a rather rocky landing. It was the same shuttle he and Cal had arrived in, which begged the question - who was flying it? Perhaps another member of the Spectre cell?

Even if that was the case, there would be no using it to escape now with the walls down.

Luke sat up, his head spinning slightly. Looking around he saw pretty much everyone else was still unconscious, although nobody appeared to be significantly hurt. He opened himself up to the Force, feeling for danger and trying to get some idea of what was going on. In comparison to the wild fury as the temple powered up, now everything was quiet and still. The Dark was placid as deep water. The temple itself hummed gently with purpose and direction, but beyond it was only the emptiness of hyperspace. 

Something was missing. It took Luke a few seconds to realise what, but then shock and fear shot through him like lightning and he scrambled to his feet immediately. Vader. He couldn’t feel his bond with Vader anymore. 

It wasn’t something about the temple - he could still sense Leia the same as ever, or the varied Force presences of the other Jedi and Darksiders. It was only his father that was missing. 

Luke scanned the room, his thoughts buzzing with cold static. The light was poor, low and red, but finally he spotted the dark shape of robes, armour and cape on the floor on the other side of the control pillar. Vader was lying very still, sprawled on his back like a broken droid. Luke went to him at a run, skidding to his knees and reaching for him both with the Force and physically as he searched for injuries. His father’s usually unmistakable Force presence was almost - but not _completely_ \- absent. It was faint, fading, but _still there._ Luke grabbed at it mentally and felt it respond ever so slightly. At the same time his awareness of Vader’s physical body expanded as he began to sense what lay below the layers of armourweave and padding.

Luke cursed to himself as he began to understand what was wrong. 

The life-support suit had been evidence enough that his father wasn’t in the best of health, and he already knew about one of Vader’s prosthetics, but he still hadn’t been prepared for… this. All four limbs were cybernetic replacements, and Vader’s chest was packed full of artificial organs. Several of his vertebrae had been replaced with metal, and circuitry ran alongside and wound itself into his nerves. As Luke’s attention ran over the wires and chips he realised what had happened. The surge of energy from the holocron that had knocked everybody out had also affected his father’s cybernetics, burning out the pacemaker that kept his heart in time and frying some of the circuits in his respirator. Vader might have been able to sustain himself with the Dark Side for a while if he’d been conscious - but he wasn’t. 

Luke’s own heart was beating wildly inside his chest. He didn’t know what to do, but he had to do _something_. With fear and desperation he pulled the Dark to him and channelled it into his father. He could feel every piece of metal and muscle and bone, mapping out blood vessels and wires and circuits as bright lines in his mind. He had to go further in, deeper, more detailed. Helping along Vader's breathing was easy, that was just the physical movement of ribs and diaphragm pulling air in and out. The heart was harder. It _should_ have been just as mechanical as the lungs, but this was solidly inside someone else’s body and the remnants of the Force inside his father rebelled against his touch. 

_Please_ , Luke begged the Force. _Please._ He didn’t care that the Dark was impartial, that it ought to be commanded and not bargained with. He only had his feelings of love and hope and the terror of loss to offer up and have faith they would be returned in equal measure. 

Warmth billowed from him and expanded into the Dark. Heat came in waves, pulsing from his own heart into Vader’s chest. The Dark was his strength, lending him its ferocity, sinking claws deep into the link that bonded them together and dragging his father up from the brink of death. Something shadowed and tattered fell away from Vader’s body and disintegrated in the black flames that surrounded them in the Force - Luke had no idea what that had been, but he sensed it was not something he needed to worry about right now. 

There was a stuttering beat, a contraction of muscle fibres, then another. Pain ripped through Luke’s own chest but he put it aside as only a distraction. He knew there would be a price for this. He knew it was what the Dark demanded, could sense it even in this moment in the part of the Dark that was watching him with cool distance, merciless and hungry, that measured his will and demanded he rise to the challenge of his own desires. 

Vader’s heart resumed its work inside him, and as blood started to circulate again his presence surged back into the Force, the black hole opening up with a crushing weight that pulled in everything around it. Luke dug his metaphorical heels in on the edge of the pit and tried to breathe through the crushing tightness over his ribs. 

It was beginning to ease, but only slowly. His lungs filled, yet it was as though the air wasn’t reaching the rest of his body. 

His hands were still resting on Vader’s chest. Muscle and metal moved beneath him, the Sith taking over the work of his respirator with the Force with a faint grunt of effort, and then synthleather gauntlets were coming up to gently grip his wrists. “Young one?” 

The relief at hearing Vader’s rumbling baritone hit him like a speeder, and Luke let out something like a shaky sob. 

“You have done something,” Vader said, helmet tilting slightly as he looked him over. Concern spiked through their bond - another almost overwhelming surge of relief hit Luke again as he realised their link was back in place. 

“I couldn’t let you die,” he replied quietly. Tentative feelers in the Force reached for him. Their prodding was painless, and Luke didn’t feel very much like moving right now anyway. He was still very sore. 

“You have done something foolish again child,” Vader said, with a wave of muddled emotion; dismay and pride and something almost like guilt. He shifted again, reaching for the control box at his chest. He pulled it away with minimal effort and tossed it aside, revealing a tangle of circuits that released acrid smoke into the air. His fingers moved dextrously and aided by the Force, stripping wires and folding them back together until the respirator gave a wheeze and started to work ever so slightly again. It was a similar jury-rigged job as Luke had seen once before, after the EMP hit above Mustafar.

Vader patted Luke's hand where it still rested over his ribs, an absent-minded gesture that Luke didn't think he was aware of, and started to sit up.

At the same moment a sudden jolt of alarm and instantaneous rage surged through him and he shoved Luke out of the way with an urgent push of the Force. Luke skidded backwards over the metal floor, catching himself on his elbows as he watched _his own lightsaber_ come down towards Vader’s head. 

Vader’s hand caught the wrist of his assailant in a durasteel grip before the blow could fall. Leia screamed in his face, more anger than pain. 

When had she woken up? Luke hadn’t sensed her. Hadn’t felt his kyber react when she lifted his saber from wherever it had fallen. Hadn’t even heard it when she activated it and prepared to strike. 

Vader stood, slow and ponderous and inexorable, bending Leia’s arm back and forcing her to drop the saber as her wrist twisted under the terrible pressure. He was still badly injured, wasn’t breathing the way he ought to be but augmenting the respirator’s mechanical action with the push and pull of the Dark, yet it made him no less formidable. Under any other circumstance Luke would have exalted to see the power and strength of the Sith but not now. Not like this. 

Leia had attacked Darth Vader and now he was going to kill her. The intent was clear and sharp in Vader’s mind and there was no appeal to mercy Luke could make that would hold any weight.

Unless he could find a different sort of argument. 

“Lord Vader!” he called out. “There’s something that you need to know!”

“It will wait,” Vader snarled. He stood and straightened up to his full height, jerking Leia off her feet. Her jaw was clenched, her eyes on fire with defiance despite the fear Luke could feel warring within her. She still wasn’t using the Dark Side, for all the emotion pent up behind her shields. She pushed it aside every time it reached for her, and here and now it did nothing _but_ reach for her. 

Luke managed to get to his feet, even though he was still sore all over and in the centre of his chest in particular. He staggered closer. “It _can’t_ wait,” he said. “Leia… She isn’t just some Jedi! She’s your _daughter!_ ”

The wave of shock that rippled out of Vader like a tsunami was enough to literally knock him off his feet. Luke landed with a thump and a startled curse. He looked up to see that Vader hadn’t let go of Leia’s wrist but had at least lowered her gently back to the ground. She glared poison at him. 

“Is this… is this true?” Luke didn’t think he’d ever heard Vader sound hesitant before. 

Leia’s face twisted. “Is that something that _matters_ to you? Let _go_ of me.” She twisted in his grasp, kicked out at him and hitting him in the shin - although that achieved nothing but the dull clunk of her boot against durasteel. 

“You… do not deny it.” Emotion shuddered along the link joining Luke and Vader, overspill of things that were too big and intense and painful to fit inside the Sith’s heart. Tentative hope, old anguish and loss, something desperate and hungry… 

“Just because we share blood that doesn’t mean anything,” Leia said. “It doesn’t mean I’ll ever join you. It doesn’t mean I hate you any less. Luke shouldn’t have bothered telling you because it doesn’t _matter_. If you want me to be a Sith you’ll have to break me and then after I kill the Emperor I’ll come for _you_ and pay you back for everything you’ve done to the galaxy!” 

Vader _flinched_. He dropped her hand and took a step backwards. “You knew,” he said. “You knew all along. Obi-wan raised you to kill me.” 

Pain, deep and dark and _drowning_ overwhelmed the bond - it left Luke gasping. He had no room for any feelings of his own, not that he knew how to react to any of this. He’d been so worried family would mean nothing to his father, that the idea of having a child would be irrelevant. He’d worried the truth wouldn’t be enough to save Leia’s life but instead some deeply scabbed-over thing in Vader’s heart had been torn open and it was bleeding too intensely to withstand. 

Leia laughed. It was not a happy sound. “Obi-wan didn’t tell me who you were until _last year_ \- though he told me more than enough about the kind of person you are, _Darth Vader._ I’ve seen evidence of all the horrors you’ve visited on innocent people. I was raised to destroy the Imperial war machine and you’re certainly a part of that so I suppose that _yes,_ Obi-wan _did_ intend for me to kill you if it was ever possible.” 

Vader said nothing. He stared at her, unmoving. The flare of feeling was starting to burn, too hot to endure. Luke could taste it turning to ash in his mouth. 

Keeping her eyes fixed on him, very slowly Leia crouched down and picked up Luke’s lightsaber from the floor. Vader made no move to stop her. She hefted the hilt in her palm and Luke could see that she wasn’t going to hesitate. Her anger was no less sharp than Vader’s had been before Luke drew the teeth from it and… 

And Vader was just going to stand there and let her kill him, because he couldn’t hurt his daughter. 

Leia’s mind was Dark and for all her words about not letting herself fall to the Dark Side she would have done so already if she hadn’t been concentrating so hard on not using the Force at all. Her attention was on Vader and not on her surroundings. Luke reached out and called his lightsaber to him. 

It was his weapon. His kyber within it. Of course it responded to his command. 

The hilt tore from Leia’s hand as she went to activate it and slapped into Luke’s palm. Gritting his teeth he stood up and approached them both. “No,” he said. “Leia, I won’t let you.”

“Apprentice…” Vader roused from the half-trance he’d been in, turned his attention to Luke again and seemed to realise how open their bond was at the same moment. His shields came slamming down, cutting him off in a way that was painful. Luke winced, but he understood. It was easier to get his own head on straight without the Sith’s emotions on top of his own. “You… How did you know of this?” Vader demanded. “Sidious told me Padmé died on Mustafar and our child with them!” 

The time had come. Luke couldn’t see any point in hiding it anymore, and he had proof now that there was no way this would end in rejection. 

“Because she’s my sister,” he said. “We’re twins.”

“Twins,” Vader replied. Even through the vocoder it came out almost breathless. No, Luke realised, it was literally breathless. In the midst of this life and death situation he had forgotten how badly his father was injured. Vader wasn't concentrating on the Force right now, was barely concentrating on anything other than… 

The training bond opened back up and yet another wave of emotion burst out. Luke swayed where he stood, starting to lose track of where he began and Vader ended. 

“Wait,” Leia said, looking between them. “You didn’t tell him before now?”

Luke managed to smile, but before he could try and explain or perhaps shift the conversation towards the idea of getting some kind of medical attention, a voice cut sharp and worried through the air. 

“Leia!”

Ahsoka was awake. So were all the Jedi, and Maul as well. Luke wasn’t sure how much of all this they might have heard, but someone would have reacted already if they’d been listening for long. 

Vader bristled, immediately a mixture of angry and protective. He grabbed Luke’s arm to pull him behind him and it jostled something in Luke’s chest making him gasp in pain. Vader’s grasp tightened in response. “Luke?” 

Luke went still at hearing his _real name_ come out of Vader’s mouth for the first time. A warm buzz of affection for his father mingled with what was at this point instinctual fear. Previously Vader finding out he still knew his birth name would have meant big trouble but now… Now he would get a chance to tell him about all of it. They could _talk_ about the past - both of their pasts - without it being heresy. 

Or it might still be heresy, but neither of them would care. 

“I’m… okay,” he said. Not quite a lie. He didn’t feel like he needed urgent medical attention or anything, but this wasn’t pleasant. 

“You are not,” Vader replied. His head turned to Leia and his hand made an abortive gesture towards her neck and the shock-collar still wrapped there. “Neither are you, Leia.”

She jerked away from his touch. “Don’t touch me. You don’t have that right.” She glanced over her shoulder towards Ahsoka, who was approaching with a mixture of fear and determination. 

“Father,” Luke said, and _felt_ the response that one simple word caused - shock and pleasure and warmth and _love_ , real and true. His breath hitched in his chest, but…. “There are things we need to deal with. You’re hurt, and like you pointed out the two of us aren't much better.” He hadn’t forgotten Leia’s probably broken wrist which… 

How had she gotten out of her cuffs? She’d been bound, before the surge in the temple’s energy knocked them all unconscious. Luke realised she had been using her left hand to wield his saber, keeping the right down by her side. He looked now - it was even more swollen than before, scraped and sore and her thumb looked strange and misshapen. 

Had she hurt herself further to get free? 

Mostly Luke was upset about that, but he could acknowledge a part of him was proud of his sister as well. She was just as determined as he was when it came to getting something she wanted. 

She needed someone to look at that injury though, not to mention they needed to work out where the temple was going, what to do with all their Jedi prisoners, talk to Lord Maul… 

Vader tucked Luke against his side, though it was more a case of them leaning on each other in mutual support given that neither of them were in the best of shape. “Perhaps,” he allowed. 

Ahsoka had slowed her approach, talking cautious steps. Kanan and Ezra hadn’t moved. Maul was watching them from the other side of the floating pillars. The holocron was still suspended between those two halves, gently turning, but given that it wasn’t doing much in the Force Luke didn’t have the energy to care. He focused on Maul’s expression instead, because he wasn’t sure what it meant. There was something almost wistful about it, mingled with a simmering anger that in the Force almost felt like… jealousy? 

What exactly was Maul jealous about? Something about family?

In the background, the battered shape of his and Cal’s shuttle caught Luke’s eye. So that _had_ been real then. It was in surprisingly good shape for having basically crash-landed. The rear ramp was twitching, hydraulics hissing as it tried to open. Angry warbling in binary floated faintly across the plaza. 

“Oh Force,” Ezra said - it would have been too quiet to hear if not for the fact that everyone else was deathly silent. “I think that’s Chopper.”

Their droid? It really was loyal, and surprisingly ingenious, if it had managed to slice their shuttle and pilot it in here. If it had been intended as a rescue mission, all it had really accomplished was to trap the droid in the temple with them, unable to go for help. A net benefit for the Sith really. 

“Vader,” Ahsoka said. “What now?” Her concern for Leia was obvious.

“Now…” Vader stopped whatever he was going to say as Luke shivered in pain. He hadn’t been able to keep that away from their bond, or even from leaking out into the Force itself. It was just pain, nothing he hadn’t experienced before, nothing he shouldn’t be able to control. Certainly nothing compared to what Leia must be feeling - which he knew was mostly his fault. He refused to be guilty about that. It was necessary, and even if Vader no longer intended to kill her it would still be better for all of them, for the _galaxy_ , if she turned to the Dark Side. 

From the pillar, the holocron flashed and the voice of Darth Presence spoke again. “You appear to be in need of some medical attention.” It sounded more like an observation than an offer of help. 

Vader whirled on the holocron. “Who are you?” he demanded. 

“Darth Presence,” she said, introducing herself once again. 

“This ship has a medbay?”

“It does,” Presence confirmed. “You wish for its services?”

“Immediately,” Vader said, giving off a strong impression of glowering at the holocron. 

A few feet away a segment of the floor rose a couple of inches upwards with the grinding noise of moving stone, making a platform that they were apparently supposed to step on. 

“I’m not going anywhere with you,” Leia snapped. She started to shift backwards, retreating towards Ahsoka without turning her back on Vader. “Particularly not further into a Sith temple.”

“It is foolish to decline medical attention,” Vader said.

She just shook her head, turned on her heel and went back to rejoin the rest of the Jedi.

“Well,” Cal said, who had been watching all of this quietly. He held out a collection of lightsabers. “Take these when you go. We shouldn’t leave these here for the Jedi to try and get their hands on.”

With a lazy wave of his hand Vader summoned the hilts and plucked them out of the air one by one to hook them onto his belt. “I will require yours as well,” he said, turning to look at Ahsoka. Their duel had been interrupted, Luke realised with a jolt of adrenaline that just made his chest hurt even more. She was still armed. 

“Why would I hand them over, exactly?” Ahsoka replied, giving him a wary look. Was she going to try fighting again? Even if they hadn’t been talking about a medbay she couldn’t have failed to notice that Vader was injured, that he wasn’t in any condition to take her on right now. This _would_ be the time to press her advantage - Maul had said himself that he wasn’t sure he could defeat her, and that might still be true even with Cal’s help. 

“You are far from your pitiful Rebellion,” Vader said. “You live now only by the mercy of the Sith. Particularly since you have been concealing my _daughter_ from me.”

Ahsoka blinked in shock - she hadn’t heard their conversation then. It didn’t take her long to recover. “I’ve been helping to teach _Anakin’s_ daughter,” she said. “Anakin, not Vader.”

“You are part of Kenobi’s plot too,” Vader growled. “First you abandoned me, then you helped Kenobi steal my children from me…” 

Abandoned him? Luke frowned. That was more personal than he’d expected. Had his father known Ahsoka Tano before the Jedi Purge then? A question for later. 

“I thought you were dead!” Ahsoka shouted. “You _know_ I didn’t know who you had become! You threw that in my face above Mustafar.”

It was enough to get Vader to back down. 

“Whatever you might claim, you don’t really care about me Anakin,” Ahsoka said - and _that_ got her looks of shock and slowly dawning horror from Kanan and Ezra both. A lot of people were learning the truth today - or at least part of it. There were a lot of pieces still missing from the puzzle and Luke intended to find them. “You gave me the _joke_ of your mercy before. Join you or perish. You already have my answer. What happened to trying to kill me? Unless you don’t think you’re up to the task?”

Vader said nothing, and eventually it was Maul who answered. “You forget the cost of your defiance Lady Tano,” he said, gesturing to the still-bound Kanan and Ezra. “Their deaths will lie heavy on your conscience.” 

“Better than bowing to the likes of _you,_ ” Ezra said, but without conviction.

“Aren’t you following along on the leash Luke put around your neck?” Leia told him. “He wants us alive.” 

“Such _fire_ little padawan,” Maul said, brushing off the insult. “One would almost think we knew each other.”

“I’ve heard stories,” Leia replied. 

“From your Master?” Maul nodded towards Ahsoka. “Why do you have so much anger then? I sense it burning inside you. It feels… _personal_. I hardly think I wronged Lady Tano to such a great degree last we met.”

Luke had to admit to some curiosity there too. He had a lot of questions about Maul’s life, about his previous encounter with Ahsoka, his enmity for Darth Sidious, things that there hadn’t been time to ask before. He sensed indecision warring inside Leia. 

“Come,” Maul said. “Why do you fear to answer my question?”

“Because she is not Tano’s padawan,” Vader told him, impatient and eager to leave. “She is Kenobi’s.”

Rage rippled into the Force. Maul’s eyes widened, nostrils flaring like a predator catching a scent. “Is that so,” he said, quiet and furious. “Then she will lead me to him.”

“Kenobi is _mine_ ,” Vader snarled, his own anger snapping out like a whip. “ _She_ is _mine_.”

Maul rounded on him. “My revenge on Kenobi has been _decades_ in the making - what right have you to deny me?”

“Every right! Kenobi betrayed me. He took everything from me. He put me in this suit!”

Maul bared his teeth but couldn’t seem to find any reply to _that_. Vader’s vocoder might limit the amount of emotion he could put into his words but Luke felt the searing depths of his pain through their bond. Even in an echo it was a punch to the gut, tearing the air from his lungs, though it wasn’t as intense as the sensation had been earlier.

Silence fell. The Sith Lords glaring at each other were two dark pits in the Force, dangerous and all-enveloping as quicksand. It was hard to pay attention to anything else, but Luke could still feel that someone was bleeding distress of their own into the Light. It was Ezra. Not Kanan though strangely, even though unlike Leia and Ahsoka he had no reason to have already known what Obi-wan had done. He had no idea the ruin Kenobi had left of Vader’s body, a reality Luke had just become intimately familiar with. It was a horror of scarred flesh that seemed to put the lie to the kind of people the Jedi claimed to be. 

People, both Jedi and Sith, were complicated. Many of them failed to live up to their ideals. Nobody did things that were all good or all bad no matter what they said. 

“Enough of this,” Vader said. “Ahsoka. Surrender your blades. If you intended to attack you would have done so already.”

He was right about that. Ahsoka gave Maul one last mutinous glare, then held her hands out with the two sleek chrome hilts lying on her palms. They joined the others on Vader’s belt. 

“Do not cause trouble while we are gone,” Vader said, addressing the entire room. Then leaning on Luke as much as the other way around, he pulled him onto the waiting platform which started to sink into the ground. Luke let his eyes close as darkness enveloped them, resting his head on the unforgiving armour plating of his father’s shoulder. Exhaustion was lapping at the reserves of his strength like the wind eroding a sand dune. 

Hopefully this medbay still had something useful in it after several thousand years.

\----

Unfolding like the terrible light of an explosion, _something_ pulsed out into the Force. The shuddering shockwave left Kanan gasping and unsteady as he was jolted awake, his thoughts spinning, momentarily unsure who _he_ even _was_. Heat hit him in successive waves as flames rose from the centre of it all. Reality warped. He felt a surge of emotions that weren't his own, desperate and intense but not... not unfamiliar. There was a ferocious love, a simple unwillingness to let go. It was fear, it was attachment - it was something bound and determined and unyielding. For a moment he thought of Ezra and he thought of his own desperation not very long ago and the ember of that power inside him lit up in sympathy with these far greater flames…

Then it was all gone again. The Force quietened around him. Kanan lay very still, letting the aftershocks of it wash over him. Eventually he opened his eyes because his head kept on spinning just as badly with them closed. He blinked up at a ceiling of red crystal. Nausea was a dull weight in the pit of his stomach, made worse by the tattoo of his heart pounding in his chest. It was fear and anxiety, nothing physical. Everything seemed to have become unstuck around him, all of their plans dashed, all of the hope that coming to Malachor ought to have represented broken and destroyed. The Dark was still washing over him - it had been since landing on this planet, but something was different now...

 _He_ felt different. Kanan cast his attention out, looking for the familiar clarity and calm of the Light and couldn't find it anywhere. There was... something sharp and painful and prickling, almost electric when he brushed against it, but... that wasn't the Light Side. That wasn't the nature of it, wasn't what it usually felt like at all. He was lost in the middle of a dark damp cave without a map or transponder or anything else to guide him. The Force clung to him, sticky as tar. The flood of protective warmth he had drawn on during his fight with Luke and Third Brother was a tiny ember inside him, struggling to hold on in the aftermath of that conflagration which had just swept over him. At least it remained familiar. At least it was _something_. He grabbed for it, sheltered it, and held on tight. 

He still felt drained and awful. The black metal he was lying against was cold and it was also... vibrating? It had been doing that before, when the whole temple started to collapse around them. The fact that they were still alive meant it hadn't actually done so, but that didn't explain what _this_ was and why it was still happening. 

Kanan rolled onto his front, very aware of the durasteel shackles binding his hands together and of the fact he wasn't armed, and pushed himself up onto his knees. His head swam. He had a headache actually, he realised. Why was that? 

There had been some kind of explosion...

The pillar. The holocron. Kanan snapped round to look at it and immediately regretted it as a sharp stab of pain blossomed behind his eyes. He winced and stayed very still until it had subsided. The holocron was still floating there in mid-air but it wasn't glowing or throwing off strange energy anymore. The Sith named Maul - the one Ahsoka recognised from somewhere - was starting to sit up too, golden eyes narrowed in anger and suspicion, the hilt of his saberstaff in his hand. On the other side of the pillar to him, Leia was standing in front of Vader and her brother. Her back was to him but he could imagine her defiant expression. His heart sank, fear in the pit of his stomach. What was she _doing?_

And how had she gotten out of her cuffs? She’d been bound just like Ezra, like he now was. 

They were talking. He couldn’t quite hear the words. Kanan took slow, cautious breaths, and very tentatively he let go of that little warm ember just enough to reach out to the Force again so he could try and sense what was going on. It was hard to make anything out in the murky, cold waters of the Dark Side, particularly in a place like this temple where everything was so Dark that even the Sith didn't stand out the way Kanan was used to. It wasn’t helpful. Everything was jumbled and he didn’t… he didn’t understand it.

Kanan didn't see a way out of this situation. Ezra and Ahsoka were only just rousing now at the edges of his awareness, and _she_ was the only one of them still free and armed. Maul didn't appear harmed - Kanan risked a sideways glance to check and found him gazing at the trio of Leia, Vader and Luke with an expression he found hard to define - and the rest of them were hostages and liabilities. They weren't surviving this. Not as Jedi. 

Kanan was trying not to think about the fact he couldn't touch the Light. Couldn't even find it in the seething mess that was the Force right now. That was...

He would think about it later.

Vader was still just… talking. The Dark rippled around him, in and out. His voice was surprisingly quiet - no, all of him was too quiet. Kanan realised that the rasping noise of his respirator was barely there. Yet he seemed to be staying alive without it. Did he need it at all then, was it an affectation meant to cause fear, or... had Luke done something? That idea was perhaps even more frightening. At least the Sith didn't look exactly fighting fit, even if he wasn’t on death’s door either. _Something_ was wrong with him that hadn’t been before they were all knocked out.

Kanan didn't kid himself that he was in any position to take advantage of that. Ahsoka might be - as far as he knew she was still armed. There might even be a way out of the temple - an Imperial shuttle had crashed beneath the lower barrier of crystal just before Kanan had been knocked out, and that could only be Chopper’s doing.

 _Certainly_ Chopper’s doing, Kanan thought to himself, as the faint sounds of furious binary started to float across the temple plaza towards him. 

A few meters away Ezra groaned, not that it seemed to get any of the Sith’s attention - except for perhaps the Third Brother. Compared to three Sith - and Luke was certainly a Sith far more than he was an Inquisitor - Third Brother was small fry. That didn’t mean he wasn’t dangerous, and Kanan had to remember that. 

“Oh Force,” Ezra said. “I think that’s Chopper.”

Speaking out loud _did_ get the Sith’s attention. Kanan’s fear leapt and brought anger with it. That… that did something strange to the ember of the Force inside him, and to… well. Everything. The world sharpened, the terrible shadows of the Dark Side falling away. He could suddenly see the pain that wrapped around Luke’s chest, that sent its needles into Leia from her throat down. He could feel Ahsoka’s guilt and determination - what did she have to be guilty about? The surging energy surrounding the Sith suddenly seemed understandable, comprehensible, rather than something that would choke him given half the chance. 

None of these things were important though. Protecting Ezra was. 

“Vader,” Ahsoka said. “What now?” Her concern for Leia was obvious, far too close to the Sith and in danger. 

“Now…”

Another sharp shiver of pain that made the Force ring. The pressure of Vader’s attention shifted to Luke, the pain’s source. From the pillar, the Sith holocron started to speak. 

Kanan could feel that too. 

He couldn’t hear what that long-dead Sith was saying through the ringing in his ears. Again, with a jerky, almost compulsive effort he reached for the Light Side, but all he could see was the Dark and that sharp, painful, burning-clear… 

Light. 

_I don’t understand!_ he thought, a plaintive cry to the Force itself. _I didn’t_ … 

Yet hadn’t he wondered about the source of that other strength that came at his call when he used his love for his padawan, for Hera and his family? When he used his _attachments?_ That love, was it more possessive than he had been admitting? Had he been reaching for the Dark Side in some poisonously deceptive guise all along?

In using everything he had to try and defeat Luke and Third Brother, had he been falling into their hands? Had he, more literally, Fallen?

Kanan didn’t want to believe it. He still felt too much like himself. So much was different now, and yet _not different enough_. Where was the fury, the sadism, the malice? Why did he still care about Ezra and Leia and Ahsoka, if he had given himself up to the Dark? 

Luke claimed that was not all the Dark was. It was still nearly impossible to accept that the Jedi Order had been that wrong about an entire part of the Force, corrupted and malevolent though it might be. 

Kanan was trying very hard to find some shred of hope that he was somehow mistaken, but there was no running from the fact that the Light had left him. What else was there, except the Dark? 

This wasn’t something he could hide. Ezra would sense it, even though their training bond wasn’t the powerfully strong kind that let them feel each other’s emotions. _Ahsoka_ would sense it. Then they would reject him - at least until the Sith started their work to make everyone else make the same choice that Kanan had stumbled into through his own arrogance and foolishness. 

At least _someone_ would be happy about this. 


	40. Chapter 40

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We explore the intricacies of Sith medicine, family bonding, and trapped Jedi.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I continue to be impressed and heartened by all the wonderful comments that people leave. I'm so glad that people are continuing to enjoy this fic.

**3 BBY - Sith Battlestation, location unknown**

The elevator moved downwards for some time in pitch darkness, rumbling beneath their feet. Vader paid it little mind. His thoughts whirled over and over, circling the one shining truth that had just been revealed. His child - his _children_ \- were alive. It was impossible, it could not be real, and yet the Force shouted out with exaltation and joy that it _was_. They were here, right here with him. His son had been at his side all this time, and that could only be a gift from the Dark itself bringing them together, guiding his son to the Inquisitors, to the true path and the strength of the Sith. 

His daughter had not been guided in this way. Instead she was a Jedi, blinkered and constrained as he had once been, moulded and shaped into a weapon pointed at his heart. She was so _strong_. Both of them were! The fury whirling within her would give her great power if only she started to use it rather than keeping it - and her full potential - chained. Kenobi and Tano must have stolen her just to hurt him, just to use her against him… 

No. That was not the full truth. This was his old Master’s doing alone - Ahsoka had been lied to, he’d seen it when they dueled. Obi-wan kept his identity from her for all these years, although she _had_ known Leia was his daughter. 

What _had_ Kenobi told her about him? Told them both? 

All of this came back to Kenobi. Padmé wouldn’t have died if he hadn’t turned her heart against him, poisoned her with his _lies_. He’d left Vader to burn on the banks of the lava river, not even pretending to the mercy of death. Then he had - what? Returned to where Padmé lay dying and taken her somewhere to cut their children from her stomach and steal them away as though he had not done enough to him already!

“Father?” Luke said softly. Vader realised he was allowing his rage to seep through their bond and broke hastily out of these thoughts. His son was injured already and did not need the distraction of his emotions right now. 

They were both in poor shape. The brief re-wiring he’d done within the control box on his chest routed a trickle of power to his respirator, but it was still necessary to supplement that with a mechanical effort in the Force. An effort he had been distracted from. 

Once again he concentrated on a push and pull, forcing his ribs and withered muscles to pull air in and out of his chest. 

“Luke.” The name in his mouth was like sweet water in the desert. He and Padmé had spoken of names, before. It was something he had not thought of for sixteen years - even the faintest brush of those memories had been too painful to bear. The moment he heard the truth of who Luke and Leia were to him however, everything had snapped into place and he _knew_ Padmé was the one to name them rather than Obi-wan. She'd chosen names that meant something to Skywalker; _Lukka_ for freedom, and _Leya_ for the krayt dragon, Elder Sister of the desert.

Padmé had held on that long. 

“We have much to discuss,” he told his son. So much he wanted to know. So much Luke deserved to know as well, truths that Kenobi had no doubt kept from him in the time he had him.

“Yes, but…” The boy looked away. “I wasn’t expecting you to react like this,” he admitted. 

Vader frowned, scars pulling painfully beneath the mask. Luke sensed his unspoken question. 

“We talked about this before,” he said, hesitating over his words. “About… about whether Sith could have families.”

Vader remembered abruptly. The things his son spoke of had been weakness, a reminder of loss, painful things that were better gone - or so he had thought. He had been so blind. 

Yet… Luke had a family before the Inquisitors found him. Vader had never asked nor had he bothered to look at the boy’s file because such things were not meant to matter, but now he _needed_ to know.

“Who had you before?” he demanded. “Who did Kenobi give you to after he stole you from me?” 

Luke blinked, caught off guard from wherever he thought the conversation had been going. “Uh. I was on Tatooine,” he said. “I grew up there with my aunt and uncle. Beru and Owen Lars. They…” His gaze grew distant as he turned something over in his mind, but Vader was already struggling to keep a leash on his anger. Tatooine? Of all the hell-holes in the galaxy Obi-wan could have taken him to, he chose _that one_ ? How _dare_ he! He should have known better than to subject Vader’s children to a place like that!

“I… were they even who they said they were?” Luke said, distressed. “Maybe they just _said_ they were related to me. But they knew about Anakin Skywalker, they told me stories about you - about _him_ I mean - about my grandmother…”

“Owen Lars was my step-brother,” Vader admitted, though only because the sudden doubt was upsetting his son. “I met him only once. Beru was his fiancé then.”

“They… did say they met Anakin. It was after grandmother was taken by the Tusken.”

Vader’s durasteel hands creaked. He had not been aware of balling them into fists, but the memory of pain and agony and murderous intent was still sharp even now. He said nothing. No words would do justice to what had happened. He could not speak of it. 

“They’re dead now,” Luke said, with a spark of anger of his own. “You know that, right? The Inquisitors who found me killed my aunt and uncle in front of me.”

It was the way of things. Vader had not known them well, but Tatooine settlers were fiercely protective of family - they had to be when slavers and criminals roamed the planet freely. Naturally they would have fought and then they would have died. He felt the echo of his son’s grief through their bond but he could not bring himself to feel any sorrow himself - nor would he lie to his son and pretend that he did.

One thing did strike him as strange. “Why did the Inquisitors retrieve you but not your sister?”

Luke frowned. “We didn’t grow up together,” he said. “I only found out I had a sister… the same time I found out about you actually.” He hesitated, but continued, "I’ve been seeing Leia in my dreams for a long time. Years. We didn’t know who each other was at first, but after Mustafar I guess Obi-wan must have told her the truth about you and me. She just… passed that on.”

Kenobi must have separated them to make them harder to find. There appeared to be no end to the depths of his treachery. “He abandoned you on Tatooine,” he growled. “To the dangers of that place.”

“With family!” Luke said. “Although… I don’t remember ever meeting Obi-wan Kenobi, but the name was familiar when Ninth Sister first mentioned it to me. Maybe he… checked in from time to time?”

Vader thought back. His thoughts were whirling, emotions crashing within him. It did not mix well with putting the pieces of the past together. “Kenobi was hiding on Tatooine," he said, finally recalling that. "He was found there six years ago by the Tenth Sister. Yet he would not have separated you and Leia if he intended to remain on the same planet.”

“Tenth Sister… was she the one who found me?” More subtle anger stirred heat in Luke’s voice. 

"She was." And perhaps now she would die for that, if Luke wished for revenge. That would be his son's choice, and Vader would never think to restrain him from vengeance. He cared very little for the Inquisitors as a whole.

Vader had never asked why Tenth Sister had been on Tatooine in the first place. He had assumed she and Fifth Brother had been refuelling, or stopping for repairs or supplies. Now he felt deeply foolish. If he had questioned them he would have known to look more closely at Luke. He might have known of his son years ago. 

“Where was Leia raised?” he asked. 

“She never told me,” Luke said. “A Core World, she said. She had private tutors so her parents were rich, but that doesn’t really narrow it down.”

If Kenobi had brought them to family… Naboo? No. Vader dismissed the idea immediately. Sidious visited Naboo on occasion, when he wanted to bring his planet of origin to the attention of the propaganda machine. He would have detected a youngling with as much power as Leia immediately. 

“Parents,” he said with contempt. “Padmé and I are her parents. Not the imposters Kenobi gave her to, whoever they are.”

He sensed that Luke did not agree, but his son said nothing. The lift they were riding ground to a halt with a sudden jerk and the boy stumbled, caught off guard. Vader caught him immediately with a spike of concern. In his haste and eagerness to establish what had happened to his children he had not been mindful that Luke was not well. He was unsure what had caused it, save that his son had done something to wake him up after the temple’s activation damaged his cybernetics. 

He worried that 'something' had been very dangerous and ill advised. 

A stone door slid upwards in front of them and Vader made sure to be the first one to step out. There was no illumination beyond save for the dull light from his life-support, and in the Force he sensed only a still, deep pool of the Dark Side. This place had not been disturbed in centuries. He pulled his saber from his belt and lit it. The crimson glow revealed a large room constructed from black stone, with gold inlaid into the walls in geometric patterns. Perhaps this meant something, but he did not know enough history of the Sith to say. Stone slabs that could have been beds lined one wall, but there did not appear to be any evidence of useful medical equipment.

Behind him Luke took a step out of the elevator and put his hand against the wall to keep his balance. He looked pale and unsteady and fear started to trickle into Vader’s heart. He cast about in the Force, attempting to sense whatever the holocron had sent them down here to find. There was nothing. This place was empty. 

“I no longer sense the presence of the holocron,” Vader said. He turned back to Luke. “There is nothing here.” His anger swelled, storm-winds in the Dark. The churning power that rippled out from him suddenly had a response. Where there was only stillness before, something moved. Crystals on the walls, previously dull, now glowed with crimson light, illuminating the space properly. Runes pulsed in the strips of gold. Vader held his lightsaber ready, fully expecting this to be a trap or a test as likely as their promised aid, though he could admit he was not in the best condition to fight. 

A powerful breeze gusted past with no obvious source, tangling his cloak in the air. It spiralled through the chamber much like Vader’s anger had done in the Force, and dust gathered in the eye of the wind. Rapidly the forming shape grew larger and larger, a cloud of ash that made arms and legs and an almost featureless head before the wind settled down again and left a humanoid figure standing before them. 

In the blank sockets of its face, two points of green light flickered on like tiny flames. 

“What are you?” Vader demanded, levelling his saber at it. 

The figure did not immediately acknowledge him. It tilted its head back and forth, stretching muscles it didn’t have, then looked down at its hands, turning them over and back. 

“I did perish then,” it said. Its voice was quiet but pitched to carry, slightly sibilant. Its head snapped up to look at them, paying no mind to the lightsaber hovering inches from its chest. “How long has it been?” it asked. “Did the weapon destroy the Jedi as well?”

“You were a Sith,” Vader said, curiosity flickering through him. He had some experience of Sith Lords of old in their various guises, souls encased in kyber or ancient artefacts. This being did not feel like a holocron, or even as powerful as Momin’s mask. It was connected in some way to the temple surrounding them, yet it had an unreal quality. A ghost. 

The figure put its hands against its chest. It didn’t appear to be wearing any clothes, but nor could it precisely be described as naked. There was little definition to it at all but merely the rough shapes of legs, arms, chest and head, with the rough suggestion of a face. Its hands were the clearest part of it, with long, dextrous fingers. “Only a Sith Acolyte,” it said. “I am Alchemist Virax - or I was. I suppose this is all that is left of me.”

“You are the medical assistance the holocron spoke of?” Vader demanded, deeply suspicious. He did not like this thing. He did not know what it was, or what motivated it. 

“Which holocron?” The dulled face turned between them. Its voice was smoke and ash. “I don’t recognise either of you my lords. I am sorry. I can see much has changed since I died.”

“The holocron was Darth Presence,” Luke said. He was curious too, Vader sensed, and deeply interested in the mysteries that lay behind this thing. It did not distract him; he was well aware of their priorities. “I promise, we’ll answer your questions later but for now we need your help.”

Virax cocked their head, green flames looking them over with a professional eye. “You certainly do,” they said, and gestured towards the stone beds. “Allow me to take a closer look.”

Luke moved on unsteady legs and collapsed more than sat on the indicated slab. As he pushed himself up and lay down flat, some manner of tension eased in him - pain being lessened. Vader felt an urge to pace, to move, twitching in the bunched muscles of his shoulders and thighs, but resisted it. He hovered near Luke's side, lightsaber still held at the ready. He did not trust the intentions of this creature. He did not trust it to be merciful, to be anything other than curious and cruel. Luke looked at the thing, but lay unresisting and weary waiting for it to approach. 

The alchemist made a gesture and green flames sprung into being around its hands. It began to reach for Luke. 

"Is that safe?" his son asked, worry stirring through their bond. 

The ghost-thing paused. It had little expression to read, but the cock of its head suggested surprise - perhaps its victims did not usually dare to question it. "This will not harm you. I need to see what is wrong.”

Vader growled. “Anything you do to my Apprentice will be revisited upon you a thousandfold.” 

Virax laughed, soft and breathy. “I am already dead.” That answer did not relax Vader at all. 

“Then you shall examine me first,” he said. If this being meant to betray them, to do something harmful rather than helpful, then he would put his own body between the threat and his son and Force damn the consequences. 

Provided Luke was well enough that waiting in itself would not be harmful. He hesitated, glanced at his son. His concern must have trickled through the bond. 

"It's okay," Luke said. "I'm okay. But you don't need to..."

"No," Vader said quickly. “Shade. Do your work.”

Virax nodded, and Luke twisted to lay on his side so that he could see what this long-dead acolyte was doing. Vader perched on the edge of one of the other stone slabs and forced himself to remain still as the shade began to pass those flickering flames over the front of his body, fire licking at the synthleather and armourweave, skirting the place where the control box was usually embedded in his chest. The sensation was indeed unpleasant. A biting cold, a chill that seeped down through muscle and bone in a way that felt invasive. "I sense the traces of much alchemy in you," Virax said. "Some new, and... ah."

Vader did not like that sudden pause at all. "New?" he said. "Explain." This was what he had been concerned about. His son had used Sith alchemy before inadvertently, but he was not trained in it nor did he have any idea of its true dangers, the price it wanted for the gifts that it could give. Vader knew _of_ Sith Alchemy, but he had not lied when he told Luke he had no interest in it. Padmé was dead and not even that power could bring her back. Nor did he wish to study it for his own sake. His Master had done enough already.

The alchemist did not immediately respond to his question, still moving those ghostly flames around in a way that suggested thoughtfulness. “The alchemy which had previously reshaped your body has been dispelled.” Vader’s already stiff frame stiffened even further. “You understand the consequences,” Virax said - their whispery, sand-dry voice made it sound like a threat. 

He did.

On the banks of the lava river on Mustafar Vader had burned all vestiges of his former self in the flames of his hate, grasping onto life with every moment of searing pain, thinking of nothing but agonising revenge against the man who had done this to him. It had been an instinctive use of untrained alchemy much like Luke's, but enough to keep him intact until Darth Sidious arrived. Then had come the true remaking. 

Darth Sidious was a master in the art of Sith alchemy. The thick tendrils of his power knit charred flesh together, bound dark strength into the boiled ruin of internal organs, unmixed congealed blood and sent it rushing once again. It was not healing. It could not be healing. It was merely preserving the wounded corpse-body as a moment stuck in time, augmented with cybernetics and prosthetics and the covering armour of the suit which was as much Vader as the half-dead _thing_ inside of it. 

His Master’s will was no longer actively working inside of him, had not been for years, but Vader fed his artifice with his pain and hate and still it bound him. He had no interest in Sith alchemy for himself because there could be no improvement on what his Master had done to him. There was no use in medical intervention either - his injuries were what they were, inviolable and unchanging. He could have begged Sidious for better parts and improved on the cage of metal around him but there seemed little point. Without the continuing agony caused by its mediocrity Vader had worried it would not be enough to sustain him. 

Now the shade told him it was gone. That the power keeping him alive had been dispelled.

"How?" he asked.

“The touch of another, wishing to impress their own designs.” 

“My Apprentice?” He would not name them as family in front of this acolyte.

“I would have to examine him as well to be sure.”

"Wait," Luke protested, not fully understanding the shade's meaning, not yet, but knowing from their tone that this was not good news. "I was trying to _fix_ things."

Virax turned towards him, ashy form dropping small streams of dust every time they moved. “We shall see,” they said. They took swift, silent steps across the floor to stand by Luke's side, hands reaching for him. Vader felt a brief stab of fear thinking that he should stop this - but the thing had not hurt him. It should not hurt Luke either. 

Luke flinched at the touch but held still. After a moment the creature said, "Either you are untrained, or you were desperate."

“What does that mean shade?” Vader demanded. 

“Your Apprentice is very loyal. Or perhaps merely very cunning. They have bound their life to yours. That was indeed enough to dispel what had previously been wrought.” 

“I didn’t really know what I was doing,” Luke said, only barely heard through the roaring that now filled Vader's ears. Bound... No. No, that could not be. What had Luke done? "I just wanted to save his life."

Save him... but at what cost? “What _precisely_ has he done?” Vader demanded, fear and guilt a sickening mixture inside him. 

“Your hearts beat together,” the shade said. He turned to Luke. “You have damaged yourself to give your strength to your Master, Apprentice, yet know that if you should perish, so will he. A fine trick, to ward against him ever striking you down.”

“That… that wasn’t the reason I did this,” Luke protested. 

“How badly has he harmed himself?” Vader said, speaking over the top of him. He wanted none of this - had he been conscious for Luke to offer he would have refused even if it cost him his own life. His family should never be hurt because of him. He could not allow it. The shade said Luke's death would mean his own; so be it! If he allowed Luke to be killed it would be no more than he deserved. Yet Virax had not suggested it would work the other way around, that Vader’s death would doom Luke. That was the only good thing, the only reason for hope in all of this. 

“He has scarred his own heart,” Virax told him. “Nothing that could not be repaired, with sufficient sacrifice.”

Even with his meagre knowledge of the art Vader understood. There was a simple sense to it. Luke had bound their hearts together to fix Vader's heart - the pacemaker must have burned out in the wave of energy from the temple. The damage, and the strength, of the two organs had thus been shared between them. This same damage could be displaced, passed along, given to another. No doubt the price of doing so would increase, a sacrifice of life to bring his son back to full health. A price he was more than willing to pay. 

"You have the skill to heal him?" he asked the shade.

“Provided you bring me a suitable subject for the transfer.” 

“It shall be done,” Vader said. “We have Jedi to spare.”

“No!” Luke's objection was immediate and strong. “Absolutely not!”

"Of course I do not mean your sister," Vader told him. "We have three other Jedi who will more than serve for this purpose."

"I don't want you to sacrifice _any_ of them for me," Luke said. He was durasteel and determination, forcing himself to sit upright on the bed so that he could meet Vader's eyes with a fiery glare. 

"We do not _need_ the Jedi," Vader said, trying to see the root of his reluctance. "The Inquisitors will replenish their numbers and grow through Project Harvester as usual. The Jedi will be more useful returning your strength to you."

" _I_ need them," Luke said. "I don't want them dead."

Vader did not understand this. They were not family. He did not know them. They were meaningless to Luke so why did he fight so hard instead of accepting that their deaths would help? "Why?" 

“Two of them are Jedi Knights,” Luke said - but he had hesitated. It did not feel like the full truth. “Kanan and Ahsoka are already trained. They would make powerful Inquisitors. Ezra is strong too - surely you sensed it?”

Vader had not paid any particular attention to the boy, only briefly aware of him both at Mustafar and when he arrived at the temple now. Perhaps he _was_ strong in the Force, but that would only mean more power that could be leached from him to heal Luke's heart. As for the others... "Ahsoka Tano _would_ be a powerful Inquisitor,” he said, “But perhaps _too_ powerful.” She would never turn to the Dark Side by choice, which only left the path of pain. She would hate him far more deeply at the end of it. He once believed that his former padawan cared about him, but it was not possible to believe that any longer. He had offered her a chance to stand by his side and she refused. Once she fell, once she had the power of the Dark to draw on, she _would_ try to kill him - and perhaps Luke too. She had threatened that already. 

“She couldn’t defeat you,” Luke protested. 

“Perhaps.” It would be a close fight, that was certain. She had learned well, trained by Skywalker, by the fires of war, by the weight of experience, and most recently, from Kenobi. 

“Once the Jedi have turned to the Dark Side, we can make them see sense,” Luke said. “They’ll understand that the Emperor is much worse than any of us - and they have to see that if we all work together, defeating him is possible! They _will_ join us against the Emperor.”

“Or they can be of use now,” Vader answered, and pointed at the boy’s chest. “You will not survive facing the Emperor with your current injuries.”

His son knew he was right. Sidious would hit him with Sith Lightning, and it would be too much. Still his stubbornness remained. “I won’t let you sacrifice any of our prisoners for my sake,” he said. 

“Their lives are worth little!” Vader said, starting to lose his temper. “They are weak fools!”

“Maybe, but there has to be another way!” Luke turned to Virax. “It won’t work if I refuse the sacrifice, will it? If I fight against the energy, against what you’re trying to do, it will fail?”

Virax nodded. “Correct. I concur with your Master though. The Jedi would slaughter every last one of us if given the chance. They deserve none of your mercy.”

At least the alchemist could see sense. Yet if Luke _did_ refuse to accept, any transfer of energy would simply dissipate back into the Force, lost and useless. Of course the Jedi would be dead, and that might be enough to convince Luke to accept the next sacrifice… 

No. His son would see that as a betrayal. There had been so little time to know him, understand him, build a relationship between them, that he would not risk jeopardising it. 

“Isn’t there anything else you can do for us?” Luke asked. 

The shade waved at the air in irritation. “I am an alchemist, not some paltry _doctor_. The subtle arts of the Sith…”

“That’s not an answer.”

Virax hissed, a noise like bones rattling in a cup. “The damage is done, but you will not die from it. You merely have to… rest. As for you.” They gestured towards Vader. “It would take more than one Jedi’s life to put right what is wrong with _you_.” Vader was aware of that. His concern was for his son, not for his own life. Without Sidious’ knowledge he could not rewind that power around his soul, could not sustain cells still caught in the moment between fire and death, part meat and part ash. 

“Perhaps mundane medicine could do it,” the alchemist said, with a sneer and obvious doubt. “Perhaps we must find a source of power more suited to _delicate sensibilities_. You will not unravel immediately - but you ought to find a mechanic in the meantime.”

“Had I tools, I could repair the respirator properly myself,” Vader snapped. 

“You had but to say.” Virax bowed, managing somehow to convey sarcasm in the motion. He gestured, and stone slabs in the walls began to open with a groan of well-rusted mechanisms. Ancient pieces of metal lay within, some deeply corroded, others pristine. “I hope something here will suffice.” 

Vader rose and began looking through the tools. Luke started to get up as well, but Vader waved him away. 

“Lie back down,” Vader told him, pointing firmly at the bed. “You heard the alchemist. You are supposed to be resting.”

Sighing, Luke did as he was told. “Fine. I’m resting.” Vader nodded, and set about doing what he could. 

\----

Leia’s hand and wrist both burned with white-hot agony from forcing them out through her cuffs. Her other wrist was bruised from Vader’s durasteel grasp, though that barely registered in comparison. Even the sharp, tingling buzz from the shock collar faded into the background. Pain drew a line through her body to pound into her skull, thudding, making it hard to think, to concentrate. 

She had failed. 

Everyone else had still been unconscious when Leia was roused by a stirring in the Force, all save Luke who had been crouched over a still, silent Vader doing his best to save the Sith’s life. She saw her chance to end at least a part of this once and for all. 

Luke hadn’t noticed her crack her thumb the way Rex had once shown her as a last resort, hadn’t noticed her rise and make her careful, quiet way towards him. Hadn’t noticed her stoop and pick up his lightsaber from the floor on the way. She had almost dropped it when she felt it scream against her palm, but she forced herself to keep her grip steady on the awful thing, wondering how Luke could stand to wield it, wondering if he was the one responsible for breaking the kyber that way. The moment Vader’s presence returned to the Force had caught her off guard, left her staggering long enough for him to wake up, to speak, and she knew her time was up and the moment had come. 

She struck down. Vader stopped her. 

It would have been so easy to use the Dark then. It wanted her to use it. It was crying out to her, pressing in at her from all sides. She couldn’t rely on the Light to keep it back, not when she couldn’t muster any sense of peace past the pain to reach for it. There was only her own strength of will, and her decision that dying would be better than drawing on anything that would have her kneeling before _this man_. 

Luke might say the Dark wasn’t evil, that it was just a tool, that it didn’t change people or make them into the worst versions of themselves, but Luke had fastened a collar round her neck and taken her prisoner with every intention of turning her to the Dark by any means necessary, so maybe he wasn’t the best judge of what was evil and what wasn’t!

Luke was also the one to save her life in the face of Vader’s wrath. 

It shouldn’t have worked. Knowing that she was his daughter shouldn’t have meant anything to the monster that shared her blood but certainly wasn’t her _father._ He was a Sith and real Sith didn’t care about anything but themselves and their own desires. Why should family have meant anything to Vader? If it had, then why hadn’t Luke said anything to him before now - and this _was_ the first time Vader was hearing any of this. Leia could tell he was genuinely surprised. It had been almost a year since she told Luke the truth. Plenty of time to broach the subject.

She didn’t understand Vader’s reaction. His shielding had been affected, she’d felt some of that mess of emotion leaking out. There was shock and anger, which she would have expected, but also something else.

It couldn’t have been love. That wasn’t possible for someone like him. 

Whatever it was, it held him still long enough for her to go for the lightsaber again, to level it at his heart. She didn’t know whether Vader would really have just let her strike him down. It didn’t seem likely, but Luke had called his blade back to him before she got the chance to test that. 

That had been it. Her one chance over. 

Vader and Luke were gone now. Leia was alone with Ahsoka, with Kanan and Ezra, with _Maul_ of all people. The weight of their eyes lay heavy on her. What must they think of her now? Not Ahsoka, who knew all of this already, but the others. Would Kanan and Ezra fear she would follow in her blood family’s footsteps? Turn to the Dark Side despite all her protests? 

How would a Sith like Maul react to a Sithspawn trying to be a Jedi?

“Leia.” Ahsoka’s touch was gentle, ghosting over the swollen, purpling skin of her wrist. “How bad are your injuries?”

She forced herself to meet her teacher’s gaze. Tried to ignore everyone else watching them. “I’m not sure,” she said. “This is… broken. My other wrist is fine. This damn _collar_ …” She shivered, as though that would really help any to get rid of the crackling electricity still running from it through her spasming muscles. 

Ahsoka reached for the Force and fed a trickle of Light into Leia’s wrist. It wasn’t enough to heal, but it helped to take the edge off the pain. Leia relaxed ever so slightly. Ahsoka had done her best to teach her this, but healing others was apparently a rare skill even amongst the Jedi. Leia did know how to put herself into a healing trance, but that needed time and safety and a place strong in the Light, none of which she had. 

"Maul," Ahsoka said. "We're unarmed and trapped in this temple. Is it really necessary to keep everyone bound?"

Maul's answering smile was sharp and dangerous. "I know exactly how dangerous _you_ are, Lady Tano."

"Yet I'm not the one in chains." Ahsoka let go of Leia and raised her arms wide to make her point. “Please, at least let me remove this shock collar.”

"Perhaps you _should_ be in chains." Maul gestured to Third Brother.

"I don't have any more shackles," the Inquisitor said. “Luke had the last pair but…” He gestured to where the lift had been, now a near-seamless part of the floor. “I could take off the collar if you think that’s wise, but Luke seemed to think it was important.”

It shouldn’t have been another painful stab in her chest, shouldn’t still feel like betrayal. It had already been clear this was her brother’s idea. It still hurt. 

“Then we shall wait for his return,” Maul replied. “I have my own questions for you now, Lady Tano, and for _Kenobi’s_ apprentice.”


	41. Chapter 41

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Jedi are not having a good time, and Kanan needs some help finding his feet in the Dark.

**3 BBY - Sith Battlestation, location unknown**

Ahsoka watched as the elevator closed over Luke and Vader, leaving the four unarmed Jedi alone with Darth Maul and the Third Brother. The Dark Side was still lapping at her shields, at the edges of her mind. It had been hard not to let the outpouring of hatred from the two Sith Lords overwhelm her as they argued who had the better claim to Obi-wan’s death. As though Maul hadn’t done enough already! As though Anakin had given Obi-wan any choice in fighting him on Mustafar! The temple weighed down on her, suffocating. This whole place was Dark down to its core, everywhere she looked, utterly relentless. 

It had been the Dark that knocked her out, and the Dark that woke her up again. Some great outpouring that had lit her skin aflame with brief agony. It didn’t last long and she still wasn’t sure just what had caused it, but it was more evidence of just how dangerous this place was. She had pushed herself upright just in time to see Leia’s attempt to kill Vader, felt her heart rise into her throat with an immediate stab of fear and hope, and to have all of that dashed as Vader’s hand caught hers before the blow could fall. 

She had no idea how to feel about what had happened after that. 

How had Vader remained ignorant of Luke’s identity for all this time? Hadn’t the Force shown it to him before now? Hadn’t it been that relationship that guided him to take Luke as his new apprentice? Ahsoka had assumed all of that and instead it had been, what? Raw talent? 

She couldn’t deny that Luke had that. It was what made him so dangerous. 

What was even more unexpected was that the truth stayed Vader’s hand. Instead of striking Leia down he stopped. Took a step back. Hesitated. Even his presence in the Force was changed, muted from the open gaping maw of hate and emptiness. 

He… he cared. 

He wasn’t Anakin. He was a Sith. Anakin was dead and gone and all his former relationships were gone with him; it couldn’t be possible. 

Could… could something of her old master still remain? 

Ahsoka put all of her shock and uncertainty out of her mind. Leia was hurt, and someone needed to check on her since she’d understandably refused the offer of medical attention from a source as dubious as a Sith temple. She was the worst off of them all at this point. Ezra was bound but otherwise didn’t look hurt physically, though he was clearly shocked by what he’d just heard. Kanan was a few meters distant and he didn’t look well either, but the padawans were her first priority. She couldn’t sense Kanan in the Force, he was shielding that tightly, but that was understandable as a defence against the Darkness. They exchanged brief glances, and she saw that he was just as afraid as she was.

“Leia,” she said, just enough to get her attention. “How bad are your injuries?” In the midst of all the fighting Ahsoka hadn’t had a chance to notice any details other than that no-one was near death or missing any limbs, but now she could get a proper look. It didn’t look good; Leia’s right wrist was badly swollen, thumb dislocated, skin purpled and scraped raw where she’d worked free of the cuffs. The left was just starting to bruise from the pressure of Vader’s grip. Leia’s face was pale, gleaming slightly with a cold sweat. 

“I’m not sure,” Leia replied, letting Ahsoka touch the swelling lightly, just enough to get a sense of it. “This is… broken. My other wrist is fine. This damn  _ collar _ …” She shivered in pain. Ahsoka looked at her neck for the first time and saw what she was talking about; they’d put a shock collar on her. Ahsoka bit back a curse, let the reactive surge of fury pass through her and into the Force. The Sith hadn't done that to any of the rest of them and there was no good reason to single Leia out like that.

"Maul," she said, unable to keep the edge from her voice . "We're unarmed and trapped in this temple. Is it really necessary to keep everyone bound?"

"I know exactly how dangerous  _ you  _ are, Lady Tano," he replied.

"Yet I'm not the one in chains." She raised her arms to make her point. “Please, at least let me remove this shock collar.”

"Perhaps you  _ should  _ be in chains." Maul gestured to Third Brother.

"I don't have any more shackles," the Inquisitor said. “Luke had the last pair but…” He gestured to the piece of floor concealing the elevator. “I could take off the collar if you think that’s wise, but Luke seemed to think it was important.”

Luke had done this? More anger surged through her, sharp and fierce. Ahsoka let it go. It was what it was. She couldn’t change what Leia’s brother had become, nor could she change the sense of betrayal that Leia must feel now. All she could do was try and keep them all alive and sane for as long as possible. That might be doomed to failure in the end, but until then…

One thing struck her then. During her confrontation with Vader she had thrown Luke’s real name in Vader’s face and it had surprised him - which perhaps should have been a clue he still didn’t know the truth at that point - but here the Third Brother was using that name casually and with no indication it was new to him. Why was that? 

“Then we shall wait for his return,” Maul said to the Inquisitor. “I have my own questions for you now, Lady Tano, and for  _ Kenobi’s _ apprentice.”

She could see where this was going already and she had neither the time or the patience for it. She was  _ so _ tired of this. Tired of fighting, tired of the Dark, tired of the Sith. “I thought you were supposed to be plotting your revenge against the Emperor right now,” she said. 

“Oh, I am capable of infinite hatred against those who have wronged me,” Maul replied. 

“I’m not going to talk to you about Obi-wan,” she said. “I don’t know where he is anyway. None of us do. We knew that would be necessary to keep him safe from people like you and Vader.”

Maul snarled, but he must have sensed the truth in her words. “How  _ did _ Kenobi steal Vader’s daughter from him?” he asked. “Or perhaps it would be better to ask how you did that, but failed to take the son?”

Ahsoka refused to look at him. He had no right to know any of this. 

“Where is the mother?” Maul asked, and Ahsoka almost asked him how he didn’t know that Padmé Amidala was long dead before she caught herself. Maul  _ didn’t  _ know. The open secret of Anakin’s relationship had been discussed amongst the GAR for so long that it barely counted as gossip towards the end, but it had never been Anakin that Maul was interested in. Only Obi-wan. Before Mandalore, Maul hadn’t even known who  _ she _ was. 

“Perhaps I should be asking instead how you  _ lost _ the boy,” Maul said, when she remained silent. “The Emperor's hunting hounds appear to have come across him at some point and retrieved him, but they missed the girl? How careless of them. Unless they were not kept together...”

His gaze bored into Leia’s, but she set her jaw and remained stubbornly silent. Ahsoka was very thankful for that. Somehow they had managed to conceal the fact that Bail and Breha Organa were Leia’s adoptive parents for this long, although it didn’t seem that would still be possible now. Hopefully when they didn’t return as planned from this mission Phoenix Squadron would make contact and warn Bail. He wouldn’t have much time to escape Alderaan once the Empire had proof of his association with both the Jedi and the Rebel Alliance. 

“I looked into that,” Third Brother said. “When we were partnered up, there were a lot of rumours going round about him. I was curious. Fifth Brother and Tenth Sister found him on Tatooine. There was no mention of another child. Kenobi  _ was _ there - he killed Fifth Brother - but it was clear Luke hadn’t been trained. Perhaps Kenobi only wanted the girl?”

He looked at Leia as well, despite talking about her as though she wasn’t even there. He was trying to get a reaction. Leia refused to give it to them, but pain rippled from her. She had all these hopes about Luke, and he had betrayed them. It might have been inevitable, but that made it no less upsetting. 

“Enough,” Ahsoka said. She had to get their attention back on her, and take them off this topic. “If I’m the dangerous one lock  _ me _ up instead of Ezra or Kanan.” She didn’t know what had happened to Leia's cuffs after she got free of them, but she wasn’t about to draw attention to that. 

Maul flipped the hilt of his saberstaff over in his hand as he thought. "You have a choice then Lady Tano. Which should we free in order to bind you?"

He was trying to force her into a hard decision, but he was still doing what she wanted. It wasn’t a difficult choice anyway. Padawans always came first. "Ezra," she said, without hesitation. 

"Sentimentality over tactics," Maul said, smiling. “Typical Jedi weakness.” He tried to give Ezra a meaningful look, but the boy wisely was avoiding his gaze. He seemed more intent on the damaged shuttle, and the still cursing droid stuck inside it. Chopper was well away from danger so long as he remained in there. Given that, maybe he shouldn't be trying so hard to get out. "Very well."

Third Brother came over to unlock Ezra’s cuffs. Ahsoka held her own hands out in front of her so that the Inquisitor could snap the durasteel shackles on, and met his eyes briefly. There was a distance there, none of Maul's preening sadism but no sign of regret or guilt either. She knew who he had been - Cal Kestis, padawan to Jaro Tapal. She and Obi-wan both had fleeting memories of him as a youngling. She didn’t know how long he’d survived as himself after Order 66, how many years since he’d Fallen.

She could expect no sympathy or help from him. 

After checking the cuffs were secure, the Inquisitor rose and walked a few paces away. “What now?” he asked Maul. 

“A very good question,” the Sith replied. He turned to the monolith and began to examine it and the holocron hovering between its two halves. Ahsoka knew she ought to be very concerned about this place and what power it might contain, but the Darksiders were distracted and she had more immediate worries. 

“You need medical attention of some kind,” she said to Leia. “Perhaps when we get to our destination, wherever that is. Until then it might help to wrap it.”

Leia nodded eagerly. Ahsoka looked down at her own outfit. There wasn’t a great deal of loose material, but perhaps from the end of the tunic… Ezra managed to beat her to it, tearing the bottom of his shirt with the loud sound of ripping cloth. Third Brother glanced over at the noise, but once he saw they weren’t doing anything nefarious he looked away again. 

“Here,” Ezra said. “How do I… Is it better to be loose or tight?”

“Tight, to support the bones,” Ahsoka told him. Together they managed to wrap Leia’s wrist. It was a painful process, but by the way she relaxed at the end of it, it had helped. 

“I’ve got the same question that Inquisitor has,” Ezra said once they were finished. He met Leia's gaze but quickly looked away. Ahsoka sensed him pushing down his curiosity, centring himself in the present moment. “What next?” It would have been so easy for him to press for more information on her relationship with Vader but he was holding himself back. Ahsoka was proud of him.

Ahsoka was about to start speculating on his question when she noticed that Kanan hadn’t moved. He was still sitting several meters away from the rest of them, looking down at his bound hands in his lap. She tried reaching for him, a light tap of her presence against his shields, but instead of welcoming her or taking comfort he  _ flinched _ .

Something was wrong here. 

“Kanan?” she said. 

He looked up as wary as a feral loth-cat. His whole body tensed as though preparing to run. Given they were at the mercy of the Sith his reaction should have made some sense, only it wasn’t the Sith that he was scared of. It was her. 

“Kanan, what’s wrong?” she asked, keeping her voice gentle and her body language open. 

Kanan took a deep, shuddering breath. “Nothing. It’s nothing. I’m fine.”

Ahsoka didn’t believe that for a moment. She didn’t think any of them did.

“I can’t… I can’t feel you through our training bond,” Ezra said, with sudden alarm. “You’ve cut me out. Kanan, what’s going on? Why would you do that?”

“I don’t  _ know _ what’s happening,” Kanan said, almost a growl of anger. “I don’t  _ understand _ … It isn’t safe for you Ezra.” The quick flare of emotion was there and then gone again in his face, but he was still closed off in the Force. Ahsoka was flung back to the memory of the change in the Light mid-fight, something she’d believed at the time was caused by somebody’s death. The Light still felt odd and unbalanced, what little she could even feel of it in a place like this. 

Was it possible that… 

But no. Kanan couldn’t have fallen to the Dark Side, not without there having been some signs of trouble beforehand. He was still acting like himself. Mostly. She had always imagined Falling as something far more dramatic - Obi-wan’s description of facing Vader on Mustafar certainly made it seem like that. The furious, paranoid, irrational man he found there hadn’t been Anakin. It was very obvious how different her Master and Vader were. 

It  _ had _ been obvious, up until today. But she couldn’t think about that now. Kanan needed her attention.

“Were you hurt during the fight?” Ezra asked, not at all reassured by what Kanan was saying. 

“No, that’s not…” Frustration and fear and then that flare of anger again. “Look, I don’t want to talk about it. Just  _ leave me alone _ .”

Ezra rocked back on his heels with an expression like he’d been slapped. Kanan winced, immediately regretting his tone - as he should! This wasn’t like him at all. He never showed his emotions this openly, or went careening from one thing to another without an ounce of a Jedi’s temple-learned control. Now deeply worried, Ahsoka pressed against his shields much more insistently. She wasn’t trying to break them down, read or influence his mind, she just wanted him to open up even a little. 

“Stop that,” Kanan snarled, batting her touch away with something that scraped her like claws. She jerked her mental presence back in pain, and saw Kanan’s automatic response of guilt. Not only guilt. There was genuine anger buzzing under his skin, something cold and hard and rooted in panic. 

“Kanan,” she said, doing her best to stay calm. He was on edge enough as it was, it would do him no good to see that she was afraid. She wasn’t sure if she was afraid  _ for  _ him or afraid  _ of _ him right now either. “Whatever is wrong, we can help. It sounds like it might be hard to describe in words, so if you could just show us…”

“I  _ can’t _ .” More guilt, more fear, and his shields were starting to give way under the strain. Ahsoka did her best to project calm and stillness, to wrap around him with Light and soothe his emotions down in the way she’d been taught would help someone in the midst of emotional turmoil. 

Kanan didn’t react well to that at all. 

His shields crumbled under a wave of uncontrolled fear and anger and pain. The Dark Side rolled out, a seething, choking cloud that lashed against the Light Side like a panicked feral beast. Ahsoka drew back into herself with reflexive speed, slamming her own shields down. Leia and Ezra were less protected. Ezra cried out - she felt the surge of emotion ricochet along a connection between him and Kanan that must have been their training bond to flood his mind and override his own feelings. Caught up in Kanan’s panic Ezra scrambled backwards unthinking, starting to hyperventilate. Leia did her best to shield herself, but for some reason her barriers were not as strong as they usually were… 

It was the physical pain, Ahsoka realised. It was making it hard for her to concentrate or to even find the Light Side in a place so devoid of it as this. 

“Kanan,” she said, projecting her voice but trying not to sound like she was shouting. “Kanan please, you have to try to calm down.”

She didn’t think he even heard her. The Dark Side was rushing into and through him like a river in flood, a force of pure, uncontrolled chaos. The overspill was freezing cold water against her shields - it felt like her breath should be frosting in the air. 

There was nothing she could do to stop or control this. The moment she tried to reach outside of herself with the Light it was batted away from her - the Dark Side in the temple was just too strong. She could feel everything that Kanan was feeling at one remove and so she could tell that the Dark was feeding on his emotions and amplifying them - he was caught in some kind of horrible feedback loop that was trying to eat him up from the inside out. 

Ahsoka might not be able to do anything but she wasn’t alone here. A shadowy presence moved towards her and then past her. She didn’t recall closing her eyes, but she certainly wasn’t processing the world with any kind of visual data right now. She didn’t need to see Maul to recognise him. The shroud of the Dark which wrapped around him seemed as though it ought to be caught up in the tide and ripped away, but if anything the opposite was happening. The shadows circled inwards, a spiral catching and trapping the chill waters. The pressure battering her eased, although the Force as a whole felt no less slimy and poisonous and cold. 

Finally the shadow that was Maul was covering Kanan entirely, forcing his emotions down and back inside him. It wasn’t calm the Jedi way - Maul was  _ making _ Kanan passive, blanking him out in a way that felt deeply, intimately wrong - but it stopped the storm. 

Ahskoa looked up, panting. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Kanan repeated over and over, a quiet and breathless chant as he held himself trembling on hands and knees. Maul’s hand was resting on the back of his neck and now his grip tightened. It might be grounding him, but Ahsoka could only see it as possessive. 

“There is nothing to be sorry for,” the Sith said. His eyes were alight with something greedy and pleased. “You will soon come to understand that you have made the right choice. You have traded weakness for strength, doubt for surety, lies for honesty. You have broken your chains and once you learn  _ control, _ your power...”

“That isn’t as helpful as you think it is,” Third Brother told him. “I’ve been where he is. Sort of. Let me talk to him.”

Maul glared at the interruption to his monologue but let go and stepped back. “As you wish,” he said. The horrid cold shroud of his presence pulled away with him and Kanan sobbed in terror, reaching for him unconsciously; Third Brother slid in in his place. He crouched, and pulled Kanan upright, though still on his knees. 

“Can you stand?” he asked quietly. 

After a moment, Kanan’s eyes focused on his face. Their colour hadn’t changed, but that seemed to only happen amongst real Sith, not Inquisitors or… or whatever Kanan was now. He nodded slowly. Third Brother let him lean on him as they both straightened up, then they walked off across the plaza in search of some privacy. 

Ahsoka wanted to say something but nothing appropriate came to mind. She simply didn’t understand how this had happened. Kanan had always appeared to be a good Jedi, strong in his principles. She hadn’t sensed anything in him that suggested he would make a choice to turn to the Dark Side and for what? What had he wanted its power  _ for _ ? 

“Your Master has seen sense,” Maul said to Ezra, smiling. “I hope you will follow his good example.”

Ezra didn’t reply, not even to reject that idea. He was too shocked, and he’d taken the brunt of what Kanan was putting out. 

Ahsoka hoped that was all it was. 

\----

Cal could feel the other man trembling against his side as he led them over to one of the sloping crystal walls at one side of the plaza. This whole situation really was a mess. First whatever the hell that had been with Vader and his - apparently -  _ kids _ , and now this. He didn’t know how he felt about the first thing and it was going to take some time to sort out his thoughts and emotions, but dealing with a freshly Fallen Jedi seemed almost easy in comparison.

Obviously the whole point of capturing the Jedi in the first place was to turn them to the Dark Side, but there was a way of doing it. A way Cal was more than familiar with, since it had been done to him. The process was lengthy and controlled, but this hadn’t been either. None of them had anticipated it, and Jarrus couldn’t be expected to know how to manage the power safely without any kind of guidance. 

The nexus under the temple wasn’t helping. It intensified everything and increased the risk of Jarrus losing himself to the Dark. Nur hadn’t been as bad, Cal remembered that. It was still Dark, but not like this, not anywhere near as powerful or as old. Plus there had been plenty of Inquisitors nearby to contain and pacify him when he started lashing out. 

Going from the Light to the Dark suddenly was traumatic. It flipped a switch in the way you saw and understood the world. Cal didn’t enjoy thinking about his time in the Fortress Inquisitorius, strapped to a torture harness, subjected to unending waves of pain designed to break his will and his hold on the Light while dangling the Dark in front of him as a balm and refuge from everything happening to him. It worked. Inevitably, it worked. He hadn’t been thinking anymore, only reacting, and there the Dark was promising that he wouldn’t have to feel any of that anymore. 

That had been a lie. There was always more pain. Perhaps not the same as those... days? Weeks? Months? ...where time had blurred together, but pain all the same. 

Cal had embraced the lifeline the Dark gave him even though it stuck cold and nauseating to his very soul. It still felt so much better than the torture. He fed it his pain and sank into it until it stopped feeling bad anymore. Once it began to actually feel  _ good _ , when it caught him up in a euphoria that bent his own personality and morals around it he knew that he had Fallen and there was no going back. The Light didn’t want him anymore. It rejected his very touch. It was needles under his skin, burning, blinding. It was anathema to the Dark, as the Dark had previously been anathema to him when he used the Light. 

Kanan must be feeling that same shift now. He’d retreated behind his shields at first, but then his Jedi friends - former friends - wrapped the Light around him and it would have felt like a trap closing. Cal wasn’t surprised he lashed out. 

“What’s happening to me?” Jarrus whispered, as they reached some semblance of privacy and Cal let him slide down the wall to sit with his back to it. 

“You’ve Fallen,” Cal told him. “I’m not sure how.”

“That’s what doesn’t make any sense,” Kanan said, with a broken laugh. “I didn’t want this. I didn’t  _ choose  _ this. It isn’t supposed to be something that happens by  _ accident _ .”

No, it really wasn’t. Not unless he had been walking the edge of the Dark for some time, and Cal had never gotten that impression from him. If any of the Jedi were going to slide into the Dark he would have put his credits on Ezra Bridger, not his Master. Wasn’t this guy from Mace Windu’s lineage? Weren’t they supposed to be good at understanding yet avoiding the Dark? Or perhaps there was a good reason Jarrus had never used vaapad. 

Kanan’s mind was starting to churn up again, his emotions fluctuating and drawing the Dark to him. He would be swept up in it if he wasn’t careful. Cal waited a beat to see if he would recognise this and do anything about it, but there was nothing. Unhappily he reached in through the tattered remains of Kanan’s shields and pressed his thoughts flat. Kanan briefly stiffened, and then relaxed with unnatural calm. 

Cal didn’t like doing that. He  _ really  _ hadn’t liked having it done to him on Nur. Kanan would enjoy being eaten by the Dark even less, so he didn’t get to be angry about it. 

Kanan’s breathing evened out. His eyes were glazed and vacant. “What… what are you doing to me?” he asked. 

“Helping you stay in control,” Cal replied. “Until you can do it yourself.”

“Control…” Another laugh, a horrible sound. “Control is for Jedi.”

“Control is even more important when using the Dark Side. Think about it for a moment. A Jedi’s control is about  _ not  _ giving in to the Dark, right?”

Kanan nodded. He swallowed, and dragged a few of his thoughts together, enough to pay attention. 

“The Light is easier.” Kanan made a noise of protest and Cal cut him off. “No,  _ listen  _ . You - we - were told that the Dark Side is the fast route to power, right? That’s correct, but fast isn’t the same as easy. It isn’t the whole story. The Light is gentle, it’s subtle, you can open yourself up to it and listen to it, and it isn’t going to try and  _ punish  _ you for that, but the Dark Side will.” Cal couldn’t help but think back to his conversation with Luke on this same topic. He didn’t understand why the kid experienced things so differently, why the Dark was so much easier for him to control, although maybe having a Sith for a father had something to do with it. Here and now, Kanan needed Cal’s understanding of the Dark if he was going to come out of this the same person he was going in. 

The Jedi Order always said people weren’t the same after they Fell. Cal supposed not every fallen Jedi had another Darksider around them to show them how to hold onto the core of their self. He still wasn’t the person he had once been, but things could have been so much worse. 

He wasn’t sure why the Inquisitorius cared enough to offer that help. The Dark would have hollowed him out and left a monster his place - but perhaps just not a  _ useful  _ monster. 

“You’re too used to opening yourself up to the Force,” Cal continued. “What you were doing before, shutting yourself off like that, it was a good solution to start off with. What you need to learn is how to make the Force do what  _ you  _ want, not the other way around.”

“I don’t know how,” Kanan replied. “It’s all… too much. Raw. I feel so on edge.” He squeezed his eyes shut and brought his bound hands up to press against his temples. 

“Let’s focus on building your shields up again,” Cal said. “They’re a mess, and it will be different constructing them with the Dark behind them than the Light.”

Kanan shook his head, a small physical movement to help settle his thoughts. “You know a lot about this.”

“Like I said, I’ve been where you are.”

“When? How… how old are you?”

He meant, how close were they in age. How old had he been during the Purge. Cal had thought about this once or twice, in odd moments during their hunt. The Grand Inquisitor had saved some records from the Temple before Jocasta Nu came back and wiped everything, and files about Jedi whose deaths hadn’t been confirmed in the Purge had been a priority to export. “We’re about the same age,” he replied. 

“Did we know each other, before?”

Cal hesitated. This was the sort of thing that wasn’t supposed to matter anymore. The past was dead, and so was the padawan he’d been, but if Luke could keep his own name and ask for Cal’s, if he could forge a link of family with  _ Darth Vader _ himself without anything terrible happening, perhaps it wouldn’t do any harm. “We had a couple of classes together,” he said. “That’s all. We were in different youngling clans.”

“Ahsoka told us your name,” Kanan said. “At least, what she and Obi-wan thought your name was. It didn’t sound familiar to me. Cal Kestis?”

Cal held himself still, refusing to react with instinctive fear and anger. Knowing his name didn’t make Kanan a threat. “Masters and Knights were taking on padawans younger and younger. None of us had time to make friends after that.” 

“What was it all for, in the end?”

“The war?” Cal had wondered that frequently at the time. Knowing the truth hadn’t brought any kind of comfort. “It was for the Sith, for the Empire, for the end of the Jedi. You hadn’t figured that out yet?”

Anger lapped like flames through Kanan’s mind, bringing the Dark Side surging in its wake. 

“Hold that,” Cal said sharply. “Concentrate on that single emotion, and the reason you’re angry at me.”

“Doesn’t sound smart for you,” Kanan replied through gritted teeth, but things did stabilise slightly. 

“Shields,” Cal told him. Kanan was one of them now, which meant Cal would help him whether he liked it or not. “Let me show you what to do.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Coming to the Dark after training as a Jedi is a lot more difficut and challenging in my headcanon than being "brought up" in the Dark the way Luke and Maul both were. Luke might be right that the Dark is not inherently bad or evil, but it is _dangerous_ and requires care and determination to master. Even after talking to Cal about this before, Luke tends to forget that bit.


End file.
